Weapon Made Manifest
GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (2)+15: 17 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (16)+10: 26
It is an empty place. A windowless cell of stone not unlike the one that Dolan sleeps in. Save that there's no door. No exit. Nothing. No furniture. Zeke lays curled on the ground, his clothing torn and ragged, the white color long faded to a dingy gray splotched with blood-marks. The room is cold. He stares forward listlessly; hopelessly. He looks like a starved thing. More bones then flesh. His scales a dusty color. A bloody piece of... meat lays on the floor just within arms reach, but he doesn't move.
This is his reality. This is so real to him that his breath mists up from his nose as he breathes. So real that he can all but taste the iron in the air. It takes everything he has not to move. Not to make a sound. Not to do anything but lay there.
It takes Dolan a moment of looking around the room, the featureless stone walls, the figure on the floor, the piece of meat. It's so starved that he doesn't recognize it at first. Slowly, he stands up. "Zeke," he calls. "Zeke." A glance at the bloody piece of meat on the floor, but it's clear the starved thing is avoiding it. "Zeke, is that you?"
The thing rolls green eyes up to where Dolan stands. It doesn't speak, not at first but it clearly understands. Green eyes close laboriously, as if blinking is an effort that might take up too much energy. He starts to open his mouth, but that makes the scent stronger. His eyes stay closed for a long time before opening again and all he manages is a low hisss that's almost a word. "Plssssssee."
"Sunguard Zeke, this is a pretty damned nasty nightmare." Dolan walks over and sits down where the sith-makar can see him, between the meat and him. "What would make you happiest, right now? What's the best thing you can imagine happening to you?" Up close, dream-Dolan is - interesting. He's dressed in a simple shirt and trousers, open at the neck, and the right side of his face is not entirely distinct. Parts of it are just a touch fuzzy, but the scarring appears very much as it does in the real world, with three furrowed slashed through where his eye should be bright and clear and colorfully red and brown. There is no eye there, and scarred fang-marks are visible on the side of his neck. He shows absolutely no fear.
GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (16)+15: 31
Zeke closes his eyes again, reminded of another world beyond this nightmare. Remembering how this nightmare ends - in reality. Smooth stone walls replace the worked stone. A low fireplace, the scent of cooking fish and warm tea. Zeke doesn't realize it yet, but he is changing too. Filling out and becoming himself. The Daeus vestments change first. Becoming white and pristine. Then his body until his scales shine with good health and he opens his eyes.
A distinct figure sits beside the fire. A man that Dolan has only seen in vision before. He turns the fish over and over and offers a warm boyish smile to Zeke. His hands reaching out for Zeke as if just seeing the sith-makar as Zeke's green eyes open. The sith breathes and slowly pushes himself into a seated position. His eyes flicker from the dream-Seldan to Dolan. "Ssssa... Thisss... isss a dream. Why isss thisss one dreaming of you here?"
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (5)+10: 15
Dolan blinks at the second figure, surprised, and looks back and forth between the two. "It's the totem," he explains, looking back and forth between them, almost holding his breath. _There's a story behind this,_ the inner inquisitor whispers, but he focuses for the moment on Zeke's dreams. "I think I pulled you in," he admits sheepishly, scratching at the side of his neck in clear embarrassment. "Sorry about that. I've been dreaming my own stuff with this, but I ran out of stuff to look at. There's something I want to look at, but maybe I better wait."
Zeke blinks, reaching out and... he doesn't quite touch Dolan, but it's clear that he wants to. To see if the other man is as real as he looks. He looks at Seldan and the man vanishes after a moment. It was just a casual thought to Zeke that Seldan wasn't really there, but just like that he was gone. Zeke carefully makes his way to his feet, disliking that he was sitting suddenly. He felt uneasy about how easy it had been to change that detail.
The wall behind Zeke fades out entirely without the sith noticing immediately. Slowly a man resolves into view. A tall man with broad shoulders and dark hair. He holds a scourge in one hand, the weapon innocuous in his palm as he looks around. He looks... vaguely familiar, like the memory of a person that is well known.
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (4)+10: 14 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (5)+10: 15
It's the scourge that twigs Dolan first. He sucks in a breath, and swears colorfully. "Damn it! NOT NOW!" _I'd promised myself I'd wait for the others!_ Still, there's a part of him that _really_ wants to see this, and a part of him that promised, and as the two war on, the image wobbles and starts to fade. Still, it's lingering rather than vanishing, easier than it's ever been. He sits down as well, head in his hands, clearly fighting with himself over _something_, even as the image fades.
When he looks up and around, it's indistinct. "What in all the hells?" His eyes narrow. "This was too easy. Listen carefully. Thoughts control this. Give me something else to think about. Something good. Please."
Zeke half turns, looking for what Dolan is talking about, but by the time he's looked around the vision of the man is fading and he doesn't understand. He does understand that Dolan is asking for his help however, and he immediately firms his own mind. "The alter of the Dragonfather. Hissss temple. The sssun-light pouring in. The ssscent of people asss they go about their prayersss. Clean linen and sssweat. The ssound of their voicess lifted in disscordant harmony to worssship."
He thinks about it himself, the place he's been a thousand times, the place where he's made his own prayers, and where the light of the Dragonfather touches.
That. The thing Dolan has been wanting to see for the last week and hasn't really wanted to ask. A goal, yes, that will do. Dolan focuses on it , bows his head, pictures it - and it immediately forms around them. He looks up, a half-smile forming on his features. "Yeah. That works. I want to come here as soon as I can."
He laces his fingers together and stretches arms and shoulders under His holy sunlight, and looks around. "Yeah, sorry about that. That's the totem's power. That was pretty easy, but guess that makes good sense. It's made by Daeus, picturing His altar probably oughta always work. Hey, not a bad idea. It's a safe spot."
He looks around him. "So I guess I better explain. With these statues, what you think about, if you think about it hard enough, it'll manifest. Not thinking about something doesn't work, and trying not to think about something _really_ doesn't work. You can do this with anything. Somehow it's easier than usual, though. Dunno why."
The explanation is carefully listened to, and of course the room around them wavers slightly under the weight of Zeke's sudden swing of uncertainty. He is quick to firm the thought of the Dragonfather's alter in his mind however, steadying it with a firmness that comes from long hours of meditation and self-control that had been hard-won. "Easssier? Ssso normally, it isss more of a challenge than thiss to make changesss?" He sounds glad that it is as easy as it is, though it _is_ unnerving. "Knowing why would be nisce."
"Yeah. Not sure I like the change. Could be something else going on." Dolan's inner inquisitor is certainly wary, and he straightens up. "Focus on the question. _Why is controlling a dream easier than it usually is?_" He walks closer to Zeke and reaches towards his crystal claw. "Think about the question really hard, and let's see what it tells us."
Zeke takes Dolan's hand with his crystal claw very carefully. He refocuses as Dolan directs, trying to ask a question to which the answer is a complete unknown. "Thisss one will do ssso." He replies with interest, his green eyes already scanning for some sign of a change to their surroundings.
The change comes quickly enough. Dolan's shadow changes form. It grows long and shifts until it is more human-like in shape. As if it were a man wearing heavy armor. This only lasts a moment however before Zeke's shadow joins it, giving the shadow a new shape: that of a massive dragon.
Beat. Beat. Dolan's shadow changes shape and grows, and Zeke's does the same. "Holy SHIT!" Dolan blurts out, then abruptly turns quite red and slaps his hand over his mouth. "Er. Um. Sorry, sir," he verbally flails, looking like nothing so much as the kid in a schoolyard who knows he done messed up and is now going to get in Big Trouble(tm). "Holy ... literally," he ends lamely. "So, uh, the reason why - it's nothing bad. It's because this is the Knight's totem and we both follow the Knight! Damn, I was all suspicious, I - I feel kind of like an idiot now."
Zeke knows the a symbol of the Dragonfather when he sees one. And Dolan's reaction is... Humorous. He shifts his tail in amusement behind him and tries to hide the suspiciously light expression in his eyes to little avail. Luckily, Dolan can't _smell_ him... "Your mate hasss more of a... penchant for cursssing than you do." He notes dryly but with that amusement coloring his voice. "Thiss one forgivesss. The Dragonfather isss not insssulted by sssuch thingsss thissss one imaginesss. But yesss, that doesss sseem to be the cassse."
He tilts his head and looks at Dolan. "If you had the totem in the dream, it would be easssier to control yesss? How much easssier?"
"Mama would wash my mouth out with soap if she heard the way we talk, Zeke." Dolan still scratches at the side of his neck, still clearly a little embarrassed. "Yeah. It can - do a lot, if you have the totem with you. You can lose it, though, so I don't bring it unless I'm doing something real specific. Blood _really_ unleashes their power, but I haven't been doing that lately. You said not to, and it's possible for the dream to become reality if you lose control of it, so I haven't tried it in the dream either. I've been wanting to, but -"
Zeke hesitates and then looks at their joined shadows. "Perhapssss together?" He inquires this gently, lifting his flesh-and-blood claw. "You bring the totem, and sssshow how thingsss are done, and we ussse thiss oness blood. That way you are not harmed; thisss one isss not lacking in sssuch at the moment. We maintain control together. Do not releassse one another." This time he lifts their joined hands slightly.
"Yeah. Let's try it." Intrigued, Dolan focuses his will on having the Knight's totem join him, here in the Dream Realm, and holds out his free hand, focusing on willing the totem itself to appear in it. "It's all about your will, and what you're thinking about," he explains. "Affirmatively focus on what you want, and actively direct it."
The totem appears in Dolan's hand easily enough. Almost too easily really. As if it had been waiting to be summoned. The little figure looks exactly as it does in reality. A man in armor standing there encompassed by Dolan's hand. Both men will be able to feel a firm PULSE of power pass through them.
The blue-scale blinks at how quickly the totem appears and shivers at the warm pulse of energy that comes with it. "That isss almossst... un-sssettling, but very good. You are very good at thisss." He himself focuses on the image of a small blade as he might use for lancing boils and other such things in his claw and this too quickly forms. He flashes his teeth at the knife and blinks. He lifts the claw that holds Dolan's hand and carefully transfers the blade to his crystal limb. It's not so easy to do with Dolan's hand in his, but he doesn't want to let go of the other man. "How much blood doesss thisss require?"
As if seeing the problem, Dolan immediately shifts his hand further up the sith-makar's crystal limb, to free his hand. "Whoa. That was - something," he blinks, staring intently at the totem. "Yeah, I've been messing with these things for a couple of seasons now. It doesn't need much. Cutting one's finger is enough." The second answer is absently spoke. "Think about what you want to have happen when you do it, though. Seems like a bad idea to not have a plan when you mess with this thing. If something else has got a plan and you don't, it'll win, and even if not, it'll go where it wants to. So-" He thinks a minute, then brightens. "I know. It's something I want to try. These totems exist in both realms, and it should be possible to dream something real. I think I almost did it, but I bet it'd be way easier. Still, it seems disrespectful to use the Knight's power for something like that. How about a sword? His symbol of justice and mercy?" Unbidden, his mind is drawn to the vision, to the longsword-from-a-totem in his hand.
Zeke nods to this instruction and thinks very firmly about a sword. He imagines every detail of the weapon in his mind as he cuts his finger with the knife. The wound is not deep, but it is more difficult to cut scale than to cut human flesh. Thus it is a little deeper than if perhaps Dolan had done it. It bleeds immediately but lightly and the blood falls…
GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (6)+15: 21 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (14)+10: 24
Immediately a sword begins to take form before the two men. Floating in midair. It does look rather like the one that is on Dolan's totem but it's not very distinct. Almost as if their competing visions of what the sword should look like is making it shift from one type of sword to another. These are small, cosmetic things, but the sword while it exists is clearly unstable.
"Looks like we aren't picturing the same blade." Immediately, Dolan shifts his own will, using Zeke's image of the blade and picturing - _Exactly. That._ What he sees Zeke showing. "So we both have to focus on the exact same thing." That's useful information, as well, and he files that away, instead staring at the shifting blade, willing it to take the form that Zeke is manifesting, the image that isn't his.
Zeke starts to shift his own focus to more match Dolan's vision of the blade as the man points out that they aren't envisioning the same weapon. He quickly realizes though that they are once again focusing on different things and returns to his original vision of what the weapon should be. What feels right in his own mind. "It ssseemsss sso. Alssso, I think that thissss... manifesssting isss more difficult than controlling the terrain." With that said he falls silent to better focus on the weapon.
GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (8)+15: 23 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
"Yeah." Dolan's focusing still on Zeke's vision of the weapon. "That's why we use blood, to strengthen it." He continues to stare at the blade, though, but instead of Zeke's manifestation of it, though, it begins to shift, its form sliding out of true. The other form becomes ring-tipped, the sturdy blade becomes slender and wickedly sharp, and Dolan collapses to one knee with a scream as several more smaller ones take shadowy form in the skin of his chest, the shirt he wears suddenly covered in blood, one of them appearing to be sinuously woven into the skin as Zeke watches.
Immediately the sword in the air semi-vanishes. Zeke stops focusing on it as the wrong image forms in his own mind as well. He recognizes the weapon too well, and his own memory of Dolan's injuries only reinforces Dolan's. He grasps Dolan's hand watching the blood flow to the totem like it's a hungry mouth even as he lowers himself to his knees. "We are in the Dragonfather'sss light Dolan. You are not alone. Thisss pain isss a ssacrifice. You are in Hisss temple. Giving blood to His creation."
There's a horrid fascination watching the blades pierce Dolan's flesh one at a time. Watching them sink into skin and slide along underneath it. He thrums low in his throat, imagining the scent of tea hot in the air. Mint and oranges. Black tea underneath to support the flavor. "You are not alone."
The totem gives another PULSE of power. Filling the two men with heat. Power. It's a heady sensation that is at complete odds with the shadowy daggers attacking Dolan's skin.
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (6)+10: 16 GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (6)+15: 21
It's almost as if Dolan doesn't hear the words, so lost is he in his own personal hell. Watching each knife go in, to more blood, gives Zeke a very good idea of how long this process took to do, and that it was done very intentionally and with great care. This was probably hideous.
Instead, Dolan, caught in the heady avalanche that lies between pain and pleasure - no, not pleasure. Power, a heady sensation all its own, and the combination threatens to sweep him away in a tidal wave. Just one thing is holding him down, holding him back - the image of the longsword that Zeke showed him.
Suddenly, clarity hits him, in just the briefest of flashes. He can use this. Focus it. _A sacrifice. Very well, let all that I am and all that I have be given to His glory. To His will._ The blood, the memory, the pain - all of it, turned in a moment and _focused_ on creating that longsword.
Zeke knows none of the thoughts that are in Dolan's mind, but the man ceases to scream, and all he can do now is hope. And pray. He prays for a sign from Daeus, from his Dragonfather that this was meant to be. That they were doing the right thing. That this even _could_ be done. He closes his eyes to the sight of the knives so that he can pray all the harder. So that he can subvert his will to Dolan's. _Let what he wills BE. Give him what he needs!_
GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (4)+15: 19 GAME: Dolan rolls will: (16)+10: 26 GAME: Zeke rolls Will: (19)+15: 34
The sword clarifies and then suddenly clatters to the ground. It sounds real. It looks real. The sound of it is startlingly loud. The blade shines where it lays on the ground in a bar of light. It looks exactly as imagined.
As the sword clatters to the ground a man appears beyond it by several hundred feet. A man with dim green eyes and a stormguardian build. He is completely unfamiliar to the two who are huddled on the ground. He looks from them to the sword, to the totem in Dolan's hand. "Well, well. What are YOU two doing here?"
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (12)+10: 22
If it weren't for the voice, Dolan might have collapsed to the ground himself, but with an effort of will, the shadow daggers vanish, leaving a rather thoroughly bloodied front behind. Vibrating with all the heady sensations, he reaches for the sword and pushes himself to his feet, putting himself unconsciously between Zeke and the stranger. "That's none of your goddamn business. Who are you?" Short and to the point, today. He puts the longsword between himself and the stranger, and himself between the stranger and Zeke.
Zeke initially freezes at the sound of someone else near them, but his green eyes narrow on the stranger and he lets out a low warning growl that would have embarrassed him if not for the fact that one does not threaten his patients and he senses in that way of his that this man is indeed a threat. "Who are you?" He asks echoing Dolan, pushing himself up to his feet faster than he normally does. He does not cower behind Dolan, but rather stands there like a blue shadow. Ready to do what he does best. Defend those that are unused to it.
The man smiles a little and lifts his hands as if in surrender. "So threatening! I'm Marsward Seraquoix." He puts his hands down and points to Dolan's totem. "And I'd be much obliged if you gave that to me."
GAME: Dolan rolls will: (5)+10: 15 GAME: Dolan rolls fortitude: (10)+12: 22 GAME: Dolan rolls 1d12: (9): 9
"Sorry, Seraquoix, you must take me for a complete fucking idiot. Your bad luck that I know better. Zeke, wake the fuck up. NOW." Dolan takes a swift step backwards, _willing_ himself to do the same. It's a hard thing to do, with all that he has just endured leaving him vibrating and bloodied and mentally exhausted, but with a last _wrench_, he fairly _tears_ himself and Zeke, and the totem out of the dream-
-and into a world of hurt. It's probably a good thing that he had not planned to dream tonight, and therefore slept outside of the restraint, for his entire chest is bleeding quite badly. Still, the totem lies safely against his right calf, and the longsword the pair had managed to manifest rests in his right hand, flat across his body. He does let out a cry of pain as he wakes, although it is not quite a scream, and his chest rises and falls a good bit faster. "Damn."
Zeke has little choice in the matter in fact, but he obeys Dolan once he realizes that the man isn't planning to stick around by himself. With one last glare for the werewolf Zeke awakens with a start. He nearly falls off his stool, but his tail is there for a quick balancing act and he's grateful not for the first time in his life for his extra appendage. Whatever did soft-skins do without one?
The scent of blood is thick in the air however, and Dolan's cry alerts him as to why. With surprising speed he rises to his feet and hovers over Dolan, observing the wounds and the weapon with equal surprise. "Will you let thisss one heal you Dolan?" He asks gently, hovering with the desire to do so.
"Go ahead," Dolan gasps out, head still spinning. He seems to have all his faculties, however, even if he does appear to be in no small amount of pain. He simply stares at the ceiling, shaking with adrenaline. "Seraquoix, huh? Definitely one of them. We drew some attention. I'm sorry, Sunguard, I didn't mean to pull you into all of that." He sounds genuinely contrite. "It's not usually like that, I swear."
The blue-scale immediately begins his prayer, setting his claw on Dolan's arm and filling him with the warmth of the Dragonfather. He uses his most powerful healing prayers. Not because it is needed, but because he can not be sure what is needed. Better safe than sorry. With that done Zeke hums low in his throat. "You need not apologize Dolan. Thisss one knowsss that it isss not normally ssso. You do not normally awaken covered in blood. Thiss one iss the one that sshould apologize. Falling assleep on duty isss inexcusssable."
He shakes his head at himself and pulls back his claws. "We sshould change your sshirt and move thisss ssword." Zeke looks at it curiously. "Amazing. It isss exactly asss we envisssioned it."
The flood of _relief_ is palpable, but the smell of iron is still thick in the air. "Yeah. It worked." He looks down at the blade in his hand. "That's -" He just stares at it, clear reverence in his tone. "Andie's going to shit a brick. Not to mention Tel. That - that's a blessing, Zeke." He blinks his lone eye. "Guess I'd better get up, so we can change the sheets."
-End