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Dreams of a Forgotten Age (IC)


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August 12, 2009

Sleep descends on Freedom City as most of its inhabitants prepare themselves to set off on a journey to the land of dreams. Not all though will have the everyday dreams of those whose lives are encompassed on all sides by the mundane. There are five of them who will encounter something much much more exciting.

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Captain Knievel curled up in the tiny bed. He was no longer living the life of luxury that he used to. No more did he have a penthouse suite. Many nights he was forced to just scrape by on the barest of food rations. tonight, however he was lucky enough to find a place to rest his head. But would he really be getting any rest? That was yet to be foreseen!

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These were trying times to be sure. Very little had gone the way it was supposed to as of late, and nearly every day, Eric went to bed exhausted. But there was always that last respite of sleep. For a few glorious hours everyday, everyone in the world would shut up and leave him alone. Sleep hadn't come easy for the first few days, the familiar weight on his right side was no longer there. He had to learn how to do things all over again, but in time, he did. He had survived these trials and has become stronger for it. As he fell off to sleep, he promised himself that he could never again need to learn to sleep on his opposite side.

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Derrick, also known as Dark Star, settled down in his small apartment. He tried sleeping once or twice a month, just to remind himself what it was like. To be more connected. And honestly, some times it was nice to just relax. With thoughts of his recent social activities bringing a smile to his face, he settled down to sleep.

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"Huh!" Aristodemus huffed as he practiced hard on his martial arts skills. It has been weeks since he had done anything to protect the city, and the police wondered also where he has been. On his person, the Spartan would like nothing more than to go out there and fight crime again, but to ensure that he wouldn't suffer another defeat, is why he trained himself until exhaustion. "HA!" That last move was a upright kick that goes almost 180 degrees into the air. But that was enough for today. He collapsed on the floor. His body told him to sleep, but he couldn't sleep on the training padding in his cellar apartment.

Enough for one day... Need to sleep... Get to bed first, then sleep... The Spartan warrior crawled over to his bed and just, fell asleep like a boned fish, even starting to snore lightly.

I needed this...

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Wilhelm might be one of the least publicly active 'supers' in the city, but that was something he shared with the greater part of the mystic community. This didn't mean that he did nothing, just that what he did went largely unnoticed. With good reason, since much of what he did was research.

In fact he was conducting a bit of research as he lay in bed about to go to sleep. Not into any particular mystical subject, but rather into history. History as told by an excellent story teller who really did his research quite thoroughly. The subject in question was, loosely speaking, the Persian Wars, but with a lot surrounding bits.

But, whether he liked it or not, even he needed to sleep sooner or later. So with some slight reluctance he put aside the book and, with a thought, turned out the lights.

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Your dreams begin with a replay of the day's events, of recent hardships, triumphs and hearthaches. Events days or even weeks ago seem to blend together in harmony and gradually things seems to become more real. Scents become more intense, people, places and things seem to be more focused and sounds are clearer as if you are experiencing those events yet again.

Gradually the scene turns into a battefield with armored warriors wielding various weapons of war fighting off against various scaled monsters who tear at them with claws, teeth, tails and various brutal looking weapons. Screams can be heard from those who fall under the monsters' onslaught and the scent of blood, sweat and spittle is thick in the air.

You look all around you and what you see is more of the same. Pockets of warriors acting in formation face off against two to three monsters each while the sky overhead is full of arrows, gouts of fire, ice, lightning and raw energy and other more exotice projectiles flying off in every direction. You notice the scent of ozone in the air as one errant beam flies past you missing by not more than a foot. For those of you who are still material, you feel the crunch of gravel beneath your feet and then each of you catches sight of four others. Each of them resembles a person you have fought or perhaps seen on the news back in Freedom City. They are as bewildered as you are and you can see the confusion in their eyes. A single thought courses in your mind: Where am I?

Unfortunately, you barely have time to figure things out before a roar snaps you back into reality. One of the larger monsters has taken notice you and your group and it has chosen you for its next target. It slowly advances towards your position and you can see its resemblance to a massive constrictor as its forked tongue flicks at the air as if savoring the thought of easy pickings. It then picks up the pace and pretty soon it is only a few feet away from you raising a massive axe high above its head as it towers above you.

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Aristodemus noted the big lizard... thing coming towards him and the others. Where did the others come from?

But given that they were in mortal danger, there was no time to ask questions. A young man, must have seen him before kneed the creature's stomach. Aristodemus decided to follow example.

"The head is mine!" He shouted as he jumped high (his strength allowed him to do so) and also plant a serious kick right in the eye of the beast.

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Wilhelm had spent the first few moments trying to figure out just what might be going on, with the first discarded possibility being that it was merely idle dreaming; he had better control and knowledge of his own mind than this. The massive lemurian monster. and the quick and not-so-coordinated defence against it convinced him that it was best to table such speculation for the moment; survival took priority.

With the front of the creature able occupied the elderly mage chose stepped out of the air behind it instead. And as the axebearer uttered its not particularly original taunt accompanied by a fairly clumsy blow against the nimble Captain, whom he now recognised, the black clad one made his own move.

"Then I bid you die yourself, scaled one."

Speaking in the old tongue of Lemuria, with an echo in the voice he preferred for his 'spells', Exile drew forth what seemed like a sword, more particularly a sabre, so black it was like a shaped hole in reality, and deftly swept the thing monsters back in an attempt to sever the spine of the beast.

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Dark Star was more than a little confused. He had no idea what was going on, nor where they were. He did however note who he was with. Two of which were villains he'd encountered multiple times. And one who was supposedly a hero, though Dark Star had never worked with the man.

Whatever the situation, they all seemed to be thrown together. And regardless of their criminal status, people were in danger. Floating, Dark Star scowled at the lizard. More violence it seemed. "Not today. I don't particularly wish to be involved in more conflict, especially without understanding. But I won't just let such threats stand." He thrust one hand outward and fired a graviton beam at the massive lizard man. He quickly looked at the others. "Is everyone alright? And have any idea what is happening?"

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Captain Knievel landed after delivering the first blow. He crouched down and quickly leaped straight into the air. He performed a back flip, catching the creature in the jaw with his foot as he completed his rotation. "Eat this!"

Captain Knievel gracefully landed again after the strike, he re-assumed his fighting stance, desperately trying to keep tabs on the rest of the battlefield.

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Aristodemus fought alongside the others as the big monster was hurt several times. His kick did virtually nothing at all. On his person, it was a bit of a blow.

Okay, time to use that move! It was justified by three factors: 1: THe opponent was trying to kill them. 2: It wasn't a human, and he didn't kill humans anymore. 3: They were fighting for their lives right now.

The ancient human charged in, no battle cry as it didn't fit this move, shaped his right arm like a spear and attempted to drive it into the creature's belly. Fortunately for the beast, he could not penetrate the tough hide.

Tough... I really didn't want to use it anyway...

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  • 3 weeks later...

There being many more competant fighters here than himself, Malice wisely chooses to sit this one out. He grabs a shield off the ground, and defends himself with it. A one-armed man with little physical strength and even less proficiency with archaic weapons would do well to avoid fighting as much as possible under these circumstances. Other than making sure the remainder of his limbs stay attatched, Malice does little else.

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