*Messages and Dreams

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Joined: 13 May 2010, 14:28

*Messages and Dreams

Post by Dumastin » 08 May 2017, 12:17

[CHAT] Samuel sat in its room aboard the Requiem, Jaraid and Flay off asleep, they can't wait to go out and look around some place that's not the ship for tomorrow. But right now, Sam was just sitting down, and watching the sphere in its hand, the magic inside dancing around--this had 'all the answers' for Dumastin's plan, or so he said. Or maybe it would be another attempt to convince it to cast aside everything and 'go be a hero,' either way, it had to admit it was kind of curious, and now's a good time--no one would be up for hours for however long this took so... let's go.

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- 'Crushing the orb in his hand sent a cold feeling rushing down his arm. There was a feeling of immense pressure across his body, then of falling, as the spell took hold and washed over him, and then it took his mind. That feeling was probably all too familiar by now: the feeling of separation from the physical. When the rush cleared, he seemed to be standing in the Sanctum's Atrium, though Dumastin was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Iapetus was sitting on the bloodstained stone slab, picking at one of the dark purplish marks with a fingertip. He looked up at Sam, but didn't speak.'

[CHAT] Samuel grimaced slightly, it wasn't, and probably would never be comfortable with going into these 'mind spaces,' not after what happened to it before. But, as everything calmed down it took a look around and recognized the surroundings, with one notable absence, it was here for a reason, after all. "So, what's this supposed to be? I figured it'd be showing me things rather than just... bring me back here, but in my head," it says, frowning slightly as well, just from mentioning that. "And I still don't really know why he couldn't just... tell me, and had to go through... all of this," it waved a hand and shook its head slowly as well.

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- '"Soon enough. We have a few places to go. I thought I'd bring you here first, so you could get your bearings. Dumastin seemed to think it was important to give you a chance to ease in." He got down off the slab, though he didn't jump; he simply dissolved, and reformed from smoke in a standing position. "There are reasons. He has reason to believe that... someone could be watching him. He's not powerful enough to guarantee the Sanctum's defenses against someone powerful enough scrying against him, much less anywhere else, and... For all that he comes off as reckless, he's certainly choosy about the gambles he takes. This, though, we think is safe. Memory to memory, mind to mind, virtually impossible to decipher for anyone else besides you."'

[CHAT] Samuel nods, "Alright," it says, taking a quick pace around--it was still... agitated, it would probably always be when it was stuck in its head like this, but still, it had a good grasp on itself and definitely the willpower to keep cool. Still, it couldn't help from fidgeting a bit, the icerian style tail slowly moving back and forth as its clawed feet tap against the floor as it paces, before slowly coming to a stop, taking a deep breath, closing its eyes, and exhaling slowly, "Okay," it says, simply, opening its eyes and looking back at the demon with a furrowed brow. It still didn't like the demon, not after all the trouble it caused it. "I'm ready,"

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- 'The demon waved a hand, and the back wall of the Atrium fell away. The first thing Sam would notice was the all-too-familiar stink of smoke and sulfur. The demon led Sam through the darkness, and then the feel of rough-worked stone, warm to the touch, under his feet. The scene took shape around them. Frozen in time, it was quite familiar. Aydun laughing in triumph as he held up a helpless Dumastin, the avatar's offhand rearing back and preparing to thrust forward with the infusion of soul energy that had transformed Dumastin into the Thorned. Sam could see himself here, too. '

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- '"You could say it started here. That's not really the case, but this was really a transformative moment for both of us, though the reasons for that are buried in the past, and the outcomes still yet to be seen in the future." Unlike Sam's own memories of the event, this vision was warped by Dumastin's own perceptions. The Namek's desire to protect Sam, to find a way to strike at Aydun, were nearly palpable. And buried under a thin layer of desperation... a sort of supreme confidence. "Yes. A lot of seeds were planted this day. I hope you let go of your guilt here, Sam. Dumastin's feet were laid on this path long before you got involved."'

[CHAT] Samuel furrows its brow even more as they walk into hell, as it were--one of Sam's worst moments. It grunts a moment--it probably would never let go of this moment--or what happened with Sara. Its greatest failures. Dumastin shouldn't have had to protect it. But... everything has a price. One of the reasons it wanted to walk away--it didn't want to pay that price anymore. It didn't want to lose anyone else. It doesn't say anything for the moment, however, simply grunting and watching the scene with a furrowed brow and a deep frown. "I see," is all it manages to say after several moments--this wasn't something it wanted to dwell on.

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- '"Not yet. But you will." He took Sam's shoulder, and together they seemed to step *inside* Dumastin. Sam could see thorny vines growing everywhere, deeper and deeper, choking out everything in view, and there, just a short distance away from them, Dumastin was kneeling in white robes. Vines, like steel, grew up around him like a cage. Time seemed to lapse, Dumastin looked up and talked to someone who was not there, and seemed to move slightly every so often. Mostly, he simply stared at a specific side of the cage. Iapetus walked around the cage to see it for himself; it showed what the Thorned saw.'

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- '"He spent a lot of time here, watching. Alone with himself. He couldn't simply spend all that time watching through my eyes. He spent much of it looking inward... I think we were both surprised with what he saw in there." This was a bleak and desolate place, and Dumastin didn't look like he handled being caged all that well. The psychic aura of his emotions grew more and more tense, like a cord being wound tighter and tighter. And then... As Iapetus watched through, in a sense, his own eyes, watched the Bear Forest burning, that tension grew ever greater. '

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- 'There was a ragged edge to it. Anger. Rage. "Do you feel that? I really think this is the first time he let himself actually feel it." That sense of anger grew more and more powerful, the air feeling hot, until it seemed as if the thorns around them should burst into fire. It was incredibly oppressive. "It was the first time I felt a sense of kinship with him. I may have grown in the dark corners of his soul, but I never imagined that in his heart he was as much, even more, of a demon than me."'

[CHAT] Samuel watches and listens, without saying much, though that fidgeting just increases--its tail shifting a little more quickly, the claws of its feet still tapping on the floor, "You were both surprised that he was mad that he was caged? Trapped in a prison in his own mind?" it says, sounding somewhat incredulous--it'd been in a very similar situation itself, albeit one without a view out like Dumastin had, and with much more pain. It was the thought of that kind of prison was one of the driving forces that pushed Sam to help save him, the very thought of being trapped in its own head again enraged Sam just about more than anything else--and a driving force behind any antagonistic actions behind Jules. It narrows its eyes slightly--something like this it took very, very seriously.

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- '"The thing is, he wasn't mad about being caged. Well, he wasn't all that happy about it, but... that wasn't the root cause. He brought it with him. He just never faced it before now." The cage exploded, as Dumastin and another glimmering spirit walked away through a burning forest of thorns. "He came to me, as my power waned, and he offered partnership rather than oblivion or servitude. He needed my help, and when he told me what his intent was, when I saw what a monster had awakened inside him... I couldn't refuse. As I said, I felt a kinship with him." The smoke from the burning field of thorns coiled around them, and he beckoned Sam to follow him. "We're getting closer to the end. The beginning. I'm sorry the route is so roundabout... The context is important, I think. He wanted you, if nobody else, to understand how things came to this point." '

[CHAT] Samuel furrows its would be brow once again, if it was the one in the cage that demon would have been dead the moment it was free, but Dumastin... it still didn't quite understand it. Alright," it says, following along. It didn't speak up much, just letting the demon talk and it took in what it could--that didn't mean it didn't have questions. Sitting in here thinking about this gave Dumastin an epiphany, but to what? And where did that anger come from? It grunts a moment, still fidgeting, agitatedly and watching the surroundings closely. "So what was his intent? How was he a 'monster'?" it was hard for it to accept Dumastin as a 'monster'--mostly because that was a title that had been thrown at it for much of its life. And what with the eating people, and the monstrous acts that'd happened by others like it... well, it wasn't -wrong-.

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- '"You haven't noticed it come out? Noticed him acting oddly? Perhaps not." The smoke formed around them as they walked through the flaming field. One image, Dumastin sitting alone in the cold heart of the Sanctum, seemed to repeat itself often enough, but others were interspersed. He saw flashes of the battle above Zeon, where Dumastin had poured himself into the war so deeply that the Thorned had been given his first handhold. A part of him had been tempted by that power; it hadn't been the demon's doing. His interactions with the people who had been his friends, or the descendants of his friends. Flashes of that anger would come up, and every time, he'd push people away and seclude himself still deeper.'

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- 'It was a major reason why he'd stayed away from Sam in the first place, why Thousand had been so much more a mentor to the young Mimic. Some part of Dumastin was at war with himself, struggling to suppress the rage and anger that the Thorned had inadvertently, in a sense, released. The images flowed backwards through time as they walked.'

[CHAT] Dumastin: -- 'Two images formed. Dumastin, again alone in the Sanctum, speaking to the cold stone. The anger Sam had felt before was only barely suppressed, here; it was like a raw, fresh wound that had only begun healing. On their other side, Dumastin speaking to Sam on Earth. They could feel what he had felt: from the first image, his struggle to bury his pain and anger under grim determination, and from the other, the moment when that determination gave way to sorrow and regret. It was, quite simply, the moment when he'd made up his mind to terminate the last of the Mimics, and the moment when his will had faltered and he'd found he simply could not. Things Sam had known had happened, but... "I don't expect the context to matter. Some things can't be forgiven. But it was relevant. Important to the overall narrative."'
[CHAT] Dumastin: -- 'Rising out of the smoke before them, an enormous steel door. It was belted with reinforced bands, locks, chains, and seals covered in magical scripts. "This is the end. And the beginning. I can go no deeper. I..." The demon looked uncomfortable. "I do, for my own part, apologize for the bad memories I've caused you. More things I suspect can't be forgiven, but our lives are built of such moments, in the end." He seemed to sigh, and deflate a bit. "Good luck, Sam."'

[CHAT] Samuel furrows its brow and thinks, before shaking its head slowly, "But... that doesn't matter. That's just running away. You think you're the only one who has issues? 'War with yourself?' That's something Dad said," Sam spoke, shaking its head slowly, before speaking again--as if quoting a memory, it's voice less gutteral, in fact a perfect match for Max's voice for the quote, "'Every single day was a war with myself,' was something he said, and it was. He wanted to eat people--*I* want to eat people. I even want to eat *you*, I can't help it, it's pure instinct. But do I let that rule me? No. I go and have friends and a family because that's what *I* want to do. Did that 'war with himself' stop Dad from talking to you? Trying to raise me? No. If he has rage--anger. Fine. Learn it. Understand it. Make peace with it. Accept it. It *is* apart of who you are. But it doesn't have to be *everything* you are, either," it shakes its head slowly. "I thought he was just getting into the battle. Like I do. Why does he even have that 'rage' anyway? Where does it come from?"

[CHAT] Dumastin - Iapetus shrugged. “We all have our struggles. But this story isn’t about struggles. It’s about… moments.” The demon raised a hand, and the seals on the door started to unravel. “Looking at him from the outside, it’s harder to tell, I think. He hides it well, but he’s damaged. Like a diamond that finally got struck the wrong way, and the fracture lines are there if you know what to look for.” The fragment-spirit of Iapetus looked over at Sam. “Imagine it, if you can. I understand you’ve gone through impressive mental trauma in the past, but… identities are more brittle than minds. What if, in a single moment, everything changed? Something happened to shatter the way you thought, the very foundation of who you were? Who you’d always chosen to be? Who you’d always hoped to become? Has what you’ve been through been so bad as being savaged by the shards of your own self, past, present, and future?” He sighed as the door chains started to slither aside. “Not to minimize your own struggles, of course. But different personalities handle events in different ways. A diamond, I said, and it’s not a bad comparison. An incredibly hard gemstone, able to endure much without being marked, but… brittle in some respects.” He laid a hand on the massive bar keeping the door sealed shut. “It’s one reason why I had to browbeat him into creating this memory spell. He didn’t want any of you to remember him as being… broken. I convinced him it was important that someone, at least, know the truth.”

[CHAT] Samuel furrowed its brow once more, "He's not. Broken. He hasn't given up--he's still got a will to keep going. I -know- what being broken is. If he were broken he'd already be dead--wouldn't be trying to talk me into 'taking up the torch,'" it grunts. "That 'edge' was broken. Even without that sword that man would have tried to kill me--thrown himself at me just to commit suicide," it then pauses, looks down a moment, "Yeah... I've had moments like that," it says, without elaborating--but there were more than one, when the fight with its own mirror image just before the thorned came to be shedded lights on its own doubts about the group, the fight with Requius over the dragon balls, the fight with edge. All of it had seriously shaped it over the past few months.

[CHAT] Dumastin - The demon lifted the bar with a heave and, staggering slightly, tossed it to the side. The visual was odd, considering this was all a construct; Samuel might or might not be able to understand it, but the metaphorical language of the Dreamscape showed chains and bars where there were other, more esoteric seals on the last memory. It was an indicator of how guarded that memory was, that Dumastin was so paranoid at this point he didn’t even trust his enemies to not be able to attempt to decode the magical energies if they had managed to steal the spell-orb from Sam. “Yes, the Edge we encountered was… a pathetic man, as well.” The Edge encountered by Dumastin had died more cleanly than Sam’s, with the Namek and Iapetus’s superior familiarity with Soulmirror making the difference. It had worked against their purposes, though. The Soulmirror, as best they could discern, was now *scared* of them, and seemed to be avoiding them somehow as a result.

[CHAT] - The demon shrugged his shoulders a bit after casting aside the bar, sighing deeply. “Maybe you’re right. But there’s not much difference either way, is there? The goal he’s set himself on isn’t really any less suicidal. We don’t expect to survive, win or lose. The power we’re going to have to wield to have a chance of succeeding will see to that without any outside intervention.” He laid his hand flat on the door. “”He perceives himself as damaged, at any rate. And it’s hard to argue that he isn’t… changed somewhat.”

[CHAT] Samuel furrows its brow a moment, "Yeah, it was a sad end for that guy... but if I were in his shoes," it pauses a moment, letting the sentence trail off for before shaking its head, continuing with a different topic, "Of course he's changed. No one stays the same forever, especially not when you find out you're going to die," it furrows its brow, "But he's still Dumastin, he wants to go out with the biggest bang there is," it nods. It did have all of Max's memories of Dumastin to look through, so despite not really getting to know the Namekian very well personally, it still knew him pretty well. "So, is this the big secret? The reason I had to do all this... inside my head?" it says, furrowing its brow one more time, it was still... irritated, agitated to be here, still fidgeting a bit. Probably would always be.

[CHAT] Dumastin - Iapetus nodded. “His plans. His fears, his nightmares, and the boiling beast of rage and hate that now drives him.” The demon pulled the door open, and black mist crawled out along the ground toward Sam, filling the area around him until the featureless landscape of the Dreamscape vanished, and he found himself watching events he likely remembered. It was, of course, the death of Max Power; the assault of the Avatar of Punishment on the Sanctum, their desperate ascension into the incredible fusion form they had assumed in order to duel Plectere. But what was different about this version was the context. This time, Sam experienced things as Dumastin remembered them. He felt for a time the smug confidence of the Namek, the absolute assurance that no matter the wall, a way would be found.

[CHAT] As Sam watched, he felt that confidence dwindle. Felt the part of the Fusion warrior that was Dumastin as he looked on Plectere’s feats and knew that even the incredible Dumaxtin had no way to match them. And yet, that confidence lived on… until the moment they were ripped apart, and Max’s damaged soul was scattered. And then, the parts Max didn’t remember. Dumastin, waking up later, not injured but exhausted beyond belief. Those wavering moments between sleep and wakefulness, before reality set in. Before the reality of Max’s death hit him in truth. Disbelief, as his mind struggled to process what had happened; Fusion was a heady experience, and made it difficult to remember exactly how events happened while the Fusion was active, but he pieced together enough. And then the pain started. He had endured the loss of members of his “family” before, but… not even losing Hiram had been like this. Julian had been old, and dying. Hiram had been injured, and they had gone into the fusion knowing what might happen.

[chat] Dumastin simply, for an unknown length of time, could not process it.. As distasteful as he had found the prospect of peace-bonding Max with the geas spell he had developed-and Sam could taste that, as well, feel the disgust that went down to the bone at the prospect of inflicting such a burden on his friend, whatever his crimes-he hadn’t wanted Max to die. To have that decision taken away, to be overwhelmed and beaten down in such a way… It was pain on so many layers. The humiliation of being beaten, for a proud man who usually took things only as a challenge. Loss. The backlash of the fusion. The still-lingering anger at the forces that had nudged Max into the foolishness that had led to these events. It all fused together into one incoherent, all-encompassing mass of pain and anger and frustration. Had he been a normal Ascended, his Ki would have been flaring out of control, most likely destructively so. Without that power, though, to anyone save one who could feel what he was feeling, it was almost underwhelming. Tears streamed down his unblinking face, as Prime’s voice hummed in the background, incomprehensible, trying to break through to him. And Sam could feel as what remained of Dumastin’s will reasserted itself, as that mind-blanking emotion was slowly smothered, pushed down and sealed away. Slowly he rose to his feet, unsteadily, as he fought to take more control of himself, to set aside the anger that would burn his mind once more if he allowed it, until he could almost convince himself that nothing was left except the raw, bleeding marks on his soul. “I’m okay, Prime.” And, such was his control over himself, the strength of his will, that a part of him almost believed it.

[CHAT] Samuel -- As opposed to the supreme confidence of the Namekian side of things, with Max... there was a sense of finality, win or lose, that would likely have been the last fight Max would ever have had. For man who loved--lived for fighting--for glory, to be known as a 'hero,' he had done essentially the ultimate sacrifice, something that cost him what he lived for--and eventually his life. And, much as he fought, much as he didn't want the outcome to be what it was, there was an overwhelming sense that he had 'deserved' it. Guilt. Mountains and mountains of guilt coloured his thoughts and actions. Even if they had won, Max would have been a shadow of what he once was--a pale imitation, he would already be dead. To see it from another side? It... didn't know what to say. "I..." it looks down a moment. Well, there was one thing. One thing that happened after they seperated. "I see..." it says quietly, "There's a little more, though..." it furrows its brow slowly. "After... the end. When that... Plectere," it spits the name out, disgusted by the man, "After he pulled you two apart... he gave Dad a choice... he could have survived," it says slowly. "But he would have... taken -my- place. I would've been... gone. Entirely," it shook its head a moment. "He gave up everything. Everything... for me," it goes quiet after that.

[CHAT] Dumastin - The scene cleared away, leaving Sam standing once more among the blank mists. Standing there before him was Dumastin, but before Sam could react, he started to speak. His eyes stared off into nothingness rather than at Sam; was this just an image? “I’m going to kill them, Sam. All of them.” His eyes narrowed, his right fist clenched, he paused as his jaw went taut. “These ‘gods’ who meddle in our affairs. Aydin showed me the way, though I don’t think he realized it, and Aydun handed me the tools, though I think he’s too arrogant to understand.” He held out his hand, palm-up, and ghostly lights danced above his fingers in the shape of Aydun, Aydin…. More serpentine wisps had to be the Eternal Dragon of Nightmares, and then there was that expressionless mask, floating along with the rest… “I’ll destroy them all. The future I leave behind will be one *mortals* are free to shape. I’ll show these, and all those like them, what their meddling brings when they bring it too far. This is the last that I can do. I can only hope that I succeed.” The mists started to fade, along with the image of Dumastin, the spell’s last power finally unwinding as Sam started to come out of the dream.

[CHAT] Samuel furrows its brow again, "I..." it hesitates a moment, "I want to help," it says. It didn't want to police the galaxy, it didn't want to fight battles, wars it didn't have a stake in. It wanted to live in peace, with its family. But this? This was different. This was personal. This was a fight it -did- have a stake in. That said--Req's words rang true as well, it didn't want to fight and die and leave them all alone, either. But... it had to be able to do something. This... was a lot to think about as everything started to fade as the dreamscape slowly vanished and it came back to reality.

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Re: Messages and Dreams

Post by ikenbon » 02 Aug 2017, 08:43

RPP rewarded

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