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Post by Fawkes on May 19, 2021 22:42:53 GMT -8
Just put it back together.
His hand shook as he tried to string the nodes together to keep something of himself. The shards slipped through silica, his own vision swimming as everything was reduced to pulse and refraction. Just put it back- Leaning in is the only way forward. No- just out it back together. Just put itbâ̷̤͒c̸̭̻̀k̷̲̘͌̈́͛̿̆t̷̢̘̭̣͙̭̹̦̘̑́͝ơ̴̪̌̌̃̊̈̄̇̚͘g̷̨̢͖̟̯̱̗̝͈͇͍̗̣͖̲̑̈́̿͛̈̈͑͂̓̒̿̃͐̂̄͊̓̽̏͊̄̒̒͜͠͝͝ͅe̴͚͔͊́͛̿͊̋̓͆̃̇̎͐̍̈́́͋͋̐͂̽̊̌̋͐̇̑͘̚͝
The splitting dissonance from Oren's performance drowned out the thread it was clinging to. The mirror split as hot mercury burned and poisoned the idea of human, the smoking carbon blackening and cycling as the pressure crushed the mind until it was insignificant and sealed beyond reach. The mirror's features were blasted and smeared to pits, the world rumbling with disgust as it was polished over and over to bone and marrow and atom. The raw anger was honed, thrown into a vortex of ripping and slicing, smoothed until the ruptures to the soft and yielding were intimate, mutilating, and microscopic. Then Oren sang. The world wrenched, cracking him down and starting the process all over again. And again. And again. The target of his reflection was triggered into the memory, synching with the process until the diamond dust was fed through the sieve. Mitchell held his face, saying something that was lost in the noise of the hellish performance. To Kai, the eidolon gestured to sand trickling over the pyramid. Fix it.
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Post by Kai Rose on May 20, 2021 12:15:39 GMT -8
The rebellion was obvious, Fawkes fighting identity annihilation with every grain of sand, trying to pull himself back together into his version of reality. She looked to the eidolon, a piece of her wondering how she could fix the whirlwind of sand, but another piece knew instinctively how to execute her part of the Vision.
Probes for hands reached for the pyramid, needle-like fingers weaving between the storm into the psychic concept of a man beyond.
Fix it.
As the colors and lights flashed, Kai recognized within the refractions the realities that her own skin showed. The darks of panic. The lights of a mind overwhelmed... and the deep, crisp color of rebellion that wove through it all. The probes seized carefully on the erroneous psychic concept, and the probes lit up as they began to tease the concept out from the rest. It was like neurosurgery - you didn't want to slice the wrong part, you just had to get the piece that wasn't working --
The sieve could catch emotion, draw it out and allow it to be drained if you were accurate enough. The probes were small enough to catch the idea, drawing it out almost like a miniature vacuum to allow the rest of the whole to continue in the whirlwind. Another finger glowed red, a psychic cauterization to prevent an expanding wound as the psychic surgery was concluded.
She looked to the eidolon with a nod.
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Post by Mitchell Carr on May 23, 2021 15:00:29 GMT -8
Kai weaved herself with the nightmare, cycling the storm through the prism as she extracted the flaws and shades that were unnecessary to their collective goal. Most of it was muscle memory, her own experience adding context to the Bastion in fulfillment of their pledge. No one had promised one another they were going to show care, or have a good time with it; it was becoming clear that the alternative was impossible.The spinning shards of the prism snapped together, sealing the operation with a cauterizing hiss before pulling up and away. Well, the Elemental wasn't falling apart anymore at least, looking similar to the jittering monstrosity that carved its away through the warehouse. The eidolon nodded to Kai in approval.
You are getting better at this. You did not break it this time.
The Bastion shook, crackling under the weight and pressure as old wounds were pried open for its secrets. Mitchell watched what was happening below himself and Oren, feeling sick again. "I think this was a mistake," he muttered. The Oath of his own design prevented him from leaving and technically abandoning the rest, but they had rapidly crossed the threshold of actively fucking with Fawkes' subconscious. He felt woefully underqualified, and didn't know what the ramifications of their actions would look like in the waking world. You are not supposed to have those.
His carved face swiveled to note the eidolon had moved up a floor again. They were gesturing to the thread-fine needles that made up the myriad of wings. He looked down again; he wasn't going to benefit from Oren cooking the Sun Banisher's defenses when he was in another room, and was left to fight the full force of the dreamscape. The extensions of his avatar were painfully compressed to snap back underneath the marble, scratching through his mind in a splitting headache as he compressed himself to fit the demands of the memory. The growing shards threatening to cut at him receded, and he shook it off. The structure twisted and flexed to reveal a confusing corridor. Report to the ballroom.
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Post by Kai Rose on May 26, 2021 14:49:51 GMT -8
Kai's perceptions shook, her colors fizzling in a whirlwind that splashed across the ground briefly as the eidolon evaluated her performance with such clinical strength. She felt like vomiting, the dark realization of what Fawkes's perception of her role in all of this had been coming to light.
Had this been her job?
Had she flayed away what people were at their core to ensure compliance?
As the order to report to the ballroom was given, she followed, trying her best to push down the rage boiling in her gut so that she could get through this without breaking her Oath. This had been a terrible idea... but an informative one.
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Oren
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written by Hiver
Posts: 242
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Post by Oren on May 27, 2021 6:42:02 GMT -8
As he feels more like himself, Oren comes to a realization. The muscle memory that quaked in between his bones. His lips spouting words he never spoke. He always knew he was a performer. But this many faces? At once? Constantly shifting, constantly melting. The Space In Between The Notes, bereft of form but suffused with purposes, drives, and aching hearts. He had a finger in every emotion. A toe in every story. There was not a single stone he could not turn.
Behind every mistake and joy, was Oren's face.
A clap of his hands would have signaled the next Movement. Instead, it found him in what could only be described as a room with a mirage for walls carved of crystal and madness.
He stood in the middle of the room and simply laid an outstretched hand to the space. "Mitchell, to me."
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Post by Mitchell Carr on May 27, 2021 15:47:51 GMT -8
The Fairest's attention flicked nervously, an instinctual dread lighting muscle tissue on fire as his renewed connection with the Durance started to paint the scene. His tone was desperate as he looked to them, "Do we really have to-"
The vibrating notes that passed for sound and conversation between the crystal Changelings vanished the moment another eidolon manifested, the Dancer taking off and spinning onto the floor without missing a beat. The Bastion fought him every step of the way, brands igniting and lacing up his calves with splintering shards that sprouted from bloodless veins. His hand started to shake as he took Oren's, stopping as white fire bloomed across the wrist and split with additional needles. Once cooled, it left behind glittering, swirling patterns.
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Post by Kai Rose on May 27, 2021 22:49:40 GMT -8
Tiny, nigh imperceptible errors led to punishing outcomes. Kai knew that in a dream, fighting the panic was akin to fighting the worst part of the nightmare; bolstering their bodies and minds were one and the same. The Wizened pushed Glamour into her words as she said, "Mitch. Deep breaths. You've got this. Trust yourself."
Iron will, iron body. So it was in the dream.
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Oren
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written by Hiver
Posts: 242
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Post by Oren on May 29, 2021 9:08:43 GMT -8
"You never once danced with me."
Oren's grip was tight, his connection to the Dream tightening like a vice as he embraced what was to come. Rather than stippling with a knife, he would brandish broad strokes with brushes hewn of glass and fractal heat. "I think I'll lead."
And then he froze. Something twisted in him and it would not let him go. A deep heat uncoils instead. It felt like rage. It made him remember a face Mitch always used to make.
"Stop that."
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Post by Mitchell Carr on May 30, 2021 10:18:37 GMT -8
The Dancer's grip matched Oren's, then tightened to a vice as he listened to the Elemental make the mistake of somehow making this about their relationship. "It wasn't about you-"His own anger and fear cracked through the mask as he had the audacity to freeze after jumping in and trying to manipulate the narrative. Muscles locked for a microsecond as the force of motion hit a wall, and Mitchell seamlessly transitioned to drag Oren into step and take the lead. His veins were burning; the shards ready to punish him for the other's fuck-ups and digging against Kai's defenses as his muscle tissue turned to diamond. The Mirrorskin was literally dragging him down with him. The Fairest's movements were a sharp blur as he corrected, dancing for two people as he maneuvered the mirror like an extension of himself and an uncanny sense for weight and kinesthetics that had been baked into his being. The dream spun with them, Oren being let go from the whirlwind. Bones snapped and twisted as the razored tips that had replaced Carr's fingers melded into dagger points as the other fulfilled his own purpose. "You aren't one Us.You're just an
imitation." The glass shrieked, knives twisting as Oren's finished position was carved and cut into correction, the gladiator bowing to something unseen as if nothing were amiss in the lacing shower of quicksilver. His breathing was uneven, hands splitting back into shape as he shuddered in a keening, panicked cry.
"Oh no. No no no nono-"
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Oren
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written by Hiver
Posts: 242
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Post by Oren on May 30, 2021 16:51:48 GMT -8
"Oh yes yes yes yes YES!"
He makes a show of his disintegration. Laughing and crying and laughing. It felt good because it hurt, and Mitchell could not help but witness. The Dream stitched Oren back together well enough, reflecting and refracting turmoil and ecstasy. There was nothing the Dancer could do that Oren hadn't already felt and suffered. The degradation compounded into exaltation within the space of a hare's breath. "I can put on a Brave face, and it will mean more than any finger you deign to raise against the grain."
"You Beautiful Sycophant, can we do that one scene from Dirty Dancing?"
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Post by Kai Rose on May 30, 2021 19:15:11 GMT -8
As Mitchell gutted Oren like a fish and the Elemental dropped his part in a show of insanity, Kai turned on the Taskmaster. As her bow of pure light sprung to life, her Mantle flared and she leveled a vicious finger at it, leveling with all of her might the weight of rampant emotion against it.
"You've failed. It's your fault he doesn't measure up."
The very floor began to subsume the Taskmaster, locking it in place.
"Destroy it and take its place."
With a Taskmaster of their own, they would have a much easier time getting through the rest of this. Violence would ensue. It had to.
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Post by Krakenbox on May 30, 2021 20:23:48 GMT -8
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Post by Mitchell Carr on May 30, 2021 21:04:52 GMT -8
The Fairest looked up as if expecting to see something, face cracking as needling feathers scratched and clawed beneath the surface. He had made a deal with himself and the Wyrd, at some point, but was having a hard time recalling why. Violence always made him sick. The claws twitched as Oren shouted and laughed,
"What do you want from me?" he asked the Elemental, desperate at this point. The Keeper was going to kill them. He was getting low on Glamour. His hand raised again to finish the job and take his chances- His head snapped as the Wizened brought the present back—they were all dreaming!
He laughed.
The tip of his foot vaulted a chunk of Oren's glass as he spun it between his fingers and lunged.
As fast as Kai gave the command, the Fairest drove the hideous blade into the eidolon's throat, rotating with a loud crack it to widen the impact. More mercury sprayed the ballroom as Mitch caught it's face with his free hand, claws digging to slowly remove the mask of the face. Without turning his head, the weapon idly aimed towards Fawkes—instinct daring the other Enforcer to try.
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Post by Fawkes on May 30, 2021 21:13:56 GMT -8
The storm wasn't supposed to attack the Taskmaster.
Orders received. Execu-
The silica flickered into a cyclone of blades that froze as the corpse of the Chatelaine dropped.
It didn't know what to do.
A frustrated thrum caused the air to tremble like living static.
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Post by Kai Rose on May 30, 2021 21:52:38 GMT -8
"It's not you, Mitch. It's the archetype. The role. It could be anyone who ever danced here."
The Mind Sculptor shook her head.
"Oren, you can't let go of him because you stalked people like him here. Look at yourself, bleeding all over the floor. Understand that for what it is: consequences for you being blind to that reality. But now you know. You're constantly living your Durance. Could you imagine what would have happened to you in the waking world if Mitch had done the same?"
She gestured at the perfect rip up his torso. The implication? Oren would be dead.
"You must choose to be who you want to be. It's a choice. You can't expect anybody to be any more together than you are. You've got to set the standard, even when it's hard. That's who we strive to be, brother. You, me, Solomon: we face the demons. We keep our society good and safe, even from ourselves. Don't we?"
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