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Sweet Dreams (Aren't made of this)


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GM

 

Rene's travels through the scholarly grounds eventually led him unsurprisingly into a classroom.  Drawn in by the flickering lights the aged painter heard the door slam shut behind him after entering.  Then the lights turned off for the briefest moment.  And in that small gap of time Rene could barely make out the faint sound of the elevator music playing.  But before the sound could be questioned the flickering lights came back on.  Now he found himself surrounded by three masked men wearing black robes.  The golden masks were decorated to appear like strange goblin like creatures.

 

Each of the men's eyes glowed crimson from behind the eye openings in the mask.  But no facial details could be made out simply darkness.  A soft whisper would be carried throughout the room as each man quickly found himself armed with what could only be described as a machete.  Not a single word was uttered between the trio as they looked to close in on Rene.  And then the lights turned off once more...

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Even without light, Rene could see them. In his mind's eye, haunting, intimidating, closing in on him. 

 

The dreamlands were not safe, even for him. Dangerous bogeymen and monsters clambered around the mercurial lands. And these three men, he judged, were not greeting him to share fine wine and ham baguettes. 

 

Brave as he was, this did not warrant inaction. 

 

He saw the scene as a painting, blurred but hyperreal. And through it, with a wave of his hand, he added his own brushstroke. It could not be seen in the darkness, but it was grey and fine, a wave of cobwebs that slung through the air and through the men. Fine as the webs were, here they were as strong as steel, forged from Rene's mighty imagination, and bearing that very strength. 

 

"Bonjour, Monsieurs!" he added as the webs crackled a fine sound, like whispers through dusty air. 

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GM

One of the masked attackers found himself enveloped in the cobwebs woven from Rene's imagination. The fact that they were as mighty as steel served to keep him held in place. However the only other assailant within the path of the cobwebs narrowly flipped out of the way, prepared after seeing the fate of his comrade in arms.

One of the masked beings would begin twirling his twin machetes in his hands. In a fluid display of finesse he'd step within reach of Rene. Bringing down his blades there would be a vivid flash as the machete blades managed to reflect the smallest refraction of light in the midst of the darkness. Not a sound was made as the metal cut into the painter's spiritual flesh. And as quickly as the attacker had come in for the assault he too backed off. Disappearing into the darkness anew.

The trapped attacker would struggle to free himself from his webbed prison. Tearing the binds slowly but not yet fully freeing himself as they began to part. The last member of the trio would begin to twirl his blades much like the first. Synchronizing his movements with his partner so that if Rene attempted to avoid the next attack he would find himself cornered as his movements were hampered the movement of the machetes. Obviously the silent beings worked in tandem with one another as they preyed on the painter.

Edited by HG Morrison
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Rene grunted as a machete bit into his chest. It hurt, but there was no blood. His flesh was more than mere bones and sinew here, both less, and more, real. 

 

"Zut Alors! I know not why you wish to hack an old man to death, my friends, but it is far from civil or polite! If I am to be cut down, then do me the dignity of explaining what slight or offence I have caused!"

 

He took a few steps back, holding in his sternum, fresh from the machete swipe. 

 

With a wave of his other hand, a brilliant river of light washed through them, like a flash of liquid light, dazzling in its ferocity. 

 

He had no wish to hurt them, yet, But he did not care to be sliced and diced either...

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GM

 

There was no answer to Rene's query.  In fact not a single word was uttered by the trio.  Their lack of civility seemingly not a matter of concern for any of them giving little opportunity to make the banter a dual exchange.  The masked men turned their heads before the lights could impair their vision.  Moving with prepared execution

 

Moving with ruthless efficiency the first of the Masked assailants would leap for Rene.  Bringing the blades of his machetes down to try and sunder his flesh from his shoulders man.  But this time the protection granted to Rene from his ring repelled the blades from tearing into his flesh.  An almost metallic clang echoed through the darkened classroom.  All the while the trapped assailant continued to struggle from beneath the webs.  His body hampered by all too physical restraints.

 

The remaining masked attacker continued to run interference for the one running offense.  Supporting the path for his attack by thrusting and slashing with his machetes whenever it looked as if Rene was moving his body to position it in a more opportune position.

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"Silence, is it?" grumbled Rene, stumbling back a few more steps, feeling his back bump into a wall. 

 

"Well, enough! You are just denizens of the dreamlands, and won't be stopping me!" he said firmly. His body had clanged into the machetes enough times. This was, he reflected, like the archetypal horror movie. Masks, silence, machetes. 

 

He had no taste for cheap B-horror movies. No art in them. 

 

"Away with you! Away!" he commanded, throwing his hands forth in a flick and painting a gush of fire, streaming outwards, onto the landscape in his head. 

 

It was not just a mental image, for that very same stream of blazing embers gushed forth from his hand, like a dragon's breath or flamethrower, bright and orange, rich in colour, and furious in heat. 

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GM

 

The flames ate away at the assailants.  Burning the the trapped assailant to a crisp.  However, once the stream of embers died out there wasn't a charred body left.  In fact there wasn't a body at all.  Only the golden goblin mask and his long black robes were left behind.  Badly burnt, but completely empty.  The assailant who was playing the offensive roll narrowly avoided being caught in the flames ducking beneath the wave of heat.  Whereas the remaining attacker playing the support roll tried to twist out of the way to avoid being burnt, but his side was narrowly struck by the blazing embers.  Not that he acknowledged the act with any semblance of pain afterwards.  Neither the smell of burnt flesh nor burnt cloth lingered in the air for more than a few moments.  

 

While the heat was still palpable in the air but the flames were not the assailant whom had been cutting away at Rene lunged after him.  With Rene's back against the wall he attempted to thrust both Machete's towards Rene's chest.  Instead he only made contact with the painter's shoulder.  Pulling back on the blade with cold hearted precision.  Soon after the second attacker closed in on the distance taking to Rene's side and preventing further avenues of retreat.  They continued working in unison with one another.  With one creating more opportunities for the other to move in for the attack.

Edited by HG Morrison
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What was the saying? Divide an conquer...
 
He grabbed his struck shoulder. Even this phantom flesh could feel pain, he realised. His body, back in the corridor where he had left it, still wore his iron ring, a black circle than made his flesh stronger than steel. But not strong enough here. He was getting chipped at. 
 
He redirected his attention to the offender, who had been hacking at him. Time to do that said dividing. The twosome worked in horribly effective unison. 
 
"I can throw more than fire!" he proclaimed, his hands dazzling with wisps of flame. 
 
Then, from behind the assailant, a flash of lightning sprang, brilliant and strong, and totally impossible, streaking from the window across the room, lancing at the masks back. 
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Well this was no fun! They should have been gloating, or threatening her, or even promising her a toasty spot in the afterlife. They could have at least be brandishing a machete menacingly. Spying the missing table at least gave her some hope. Obviously this was all playing out to some sort of script. Hoping she got the actions just right she began to skirt backwards trying to make me way into the now open space.

"Please... I don't understand... Why are you doing this to me?"

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GM
 
The students in the cafeteria continued to slowly edge their way towards Daphne.  But unlike how the script in her mind might have played out.  They weren't adding any excitement to the pretext of the nightmare.  In fact the more her excitement faded the slower they began to act.  Almost as if reacting to her emotions, the lack of actual fear ironically impeding the outcome Daphne wanted.  That was until her back felt itself hitting against someone.
 
Turning around Daphne would be able to catch sight of a large green scaled reptilian reptilian human hybrid.  There were small rigid horns protruding from above the slit of its eyes.  The creature was dressed in sleek steampunk inspired bronze armor.  Raising its hands the creature would reveal that its palms housed an extra pair of eyes.  A hiss would escape its mouth  before narrowing all four of its eyes.  Their brief contact as she bumped into him alerted Daphne to one very important detail.  He was not a figment of her very active imagination.  The creature was really there with her.
 
"A Magician? Such honed resistance against fright.  No matter, you will learn the meaning of despair.  Fear is the true nature of man.  Succumb to the despair."  The creature was making some clearly incorrect assumptions as to why Daphne wasn't operating under her script.  "Take the mortal into the abyss!" With the insistence of the command given the students eyes would begin to glow red. Led by her now less charming love interest from the dream, they would all try to grab hold of Daphne.

Edited by HG Morrison
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So obviously this wasn’t part of the dream!


Whilst she could have probably call Mother Unit to pull her out of her REM sleep there was obviously something serious going on, something which could actually cause harm to others. It was something that needed to be stopped and luckily Daphne was here to save the day.


When someone dreams they constructed in there mind a version of themselves in the dreamscape. Most humans tended to construct perfect version of themselves, Daphne on the other hand had just copy her waking self exactly. And that included all of her natural abilities.


“I’m sorry to tell you that I’m no magician.†she leaned in a whispered “And to be honest I’m not even human.â€


As she spoke to the Pan’s Labrynth knock off her form shifted to her teen Grue personna, and to make sure none of his minions could follow his order she went insubstantial.

 

“Now let’s talk about this naughty thing you're doing and how you're going to stop it all before you get hurt.â€

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GM

 

The lightning struck not only quickly but painfully as it surged through the attacker's body.  And while it did not take the mysterious assaulter out of the fight clearly damage had been done.  He stood paralyzed for a moment as his body seemingly stopped responding momentarily.  Whereas a person might have been breathing heavy at this point, its body was locked up but there were no reflexive tell tale times of the damage suffered aside from the fact that it stood still.  Slowly shaking off the surprise attack.  The lack of vocal response from the men continued even still.

 

His comrade in arms stopped supporting the paralyzed attacker by providing more avenues to attack.  Realizing that he was not long for this fight he instead swiped at both of Rene's legs with his machetes using a simultaneous cross cut.  Trying to give his partner some room to further recover and thereby continue their assault on the old man.

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Rene once again felt the sting of the machete. Without his Iron Ring, he would be mincemeat by now. He had a brief flashback to the French Revolution, and the horrors of swords and blood. Blinking, he determined not to fall prey to such carnage himself. 

 

"<Formidable! Your fencing has a merry dance to it, if inelegant!>" he said to the men, backing away from the swipes, cuts, and thrusts. He doubted they could hear him, and wondered they were even sentient. 

 

They were dangerous, however. 

 

<"Shazam!>" he gesticulated wildly, and a burning crackle of green fire swept from left to right, a summoning of magical energy that blurred and fizzed, and was gone in an instant. 

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Daphne examined her nails for a few seconds and then tapped her foot not that she waited to long she wasn’t sure exactly what the he could do. beside an effective situation might help him see her argument.


One advantage she had, for now, was that in her dream really was a little more mutable allowing her to do thing that she couldn’t achieve. In this case she could make part’s of her solid whilst still keeping the majority of her body insubstantial.

 

To use this to her advantage she launched herself into the crowd of student’s and mass of whirling hands and feet. She felt a little guilty about attacking her “friend†like this but they weren’t in there right mind right now.

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GM

 

The fire enveloped the masked warrior in a dazzling display.  Once it burned out there was a huff of smoke from the mysterious being's mouth.  And then the mask and robe fell flat to the ground.  Leaving no trace of whatever occupant once donned the material.  If there was ever someone inside to begin with.  Much like the first attacker the only remnants were the robe and ornate goblin like mask.  However, the opportunity to examine the clothing would not yet come to pass as Rene still had one more attacker to contend with.

 

With no remorse for its fallen comrades the remaining attacker would actually lunge forward thrusting towards Rene's axilla region with the opening provided by its foes fiery attack.  What occurred was nothing less than extraordinary as the Machete's actually bent back for a moment against the durable steel like skin of the painter.  The fact that the laws of physics were merely suggestions in the mutable dreamscape might have had something to do with the display.  Or perhaps Rene's skin was truly made of such tougher stuff than the twin machetes that had tried to pierce his armpit.  

 

Either conclusion would have scared many a foe away.  The attacker for his part had no hesitation.  Despite the fact that he left himself open for retribution with such a heavy thrust.

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GM

 

The student body was sent flying by Daphne's flurry of limbs.  Crashing into one another and perhaps softening the blows.  Slow they rose and attempted to retaliate with their own combined flurry.  The outcome was a mass of bodies tripping over one another and pilling onto a mountain of students as they went through Daphne's insubstantial body.

 

Daphne whom seemed more compelled to examine her nails than Devon Lee who was trying his hardest to get her too look directly into his eyes.  His gaze sending out an odd amorous wave of emotions.  Ones that the curious girl may not have even understood had her body become flushed with his manipulative magic.  Devon Lee's frustration with the failure was, however, noticeable.  And even managed to garner the laugh track sound from the dream sequence.

 

"Human or not.  You shall know fear!"  The Lizard like man hissed.  His hand had a set of silvery claws that seemed to have an unnatural glow about them.  Scraping against Daphne the glimmer of the furious motion reflected through the classroom in an almost blinding display.  Severing the phantasm like body as if it were still solid flesh.  A set of predatory eyes glaring at Daphne all the while.

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Rene once again felt the machete, but this time, he grinned at the result. 

 

"The land of dreams is truly remarkable, is it not? Even I stop to wonder sometimes, and that's saying something. I am at home, here, apparition!"

 

His back against the wall, he slumped to one side and shuffled to his left, out of range from the Machete. He wasn't as fast as the spectre, even in the lands of dreams, but he wasn't as slow as he normally was. He was forcing the blade to advance, never giving it time. 

 

"And now. Stop!, it iz hammer time!" he said, unwittingly and unknowingly declaring a truly awful pun. Rene didn't listen to popular music. Especially from the 80s. 

 

Conjuring forth a hammer, its head the size of an anvil, he swung his arms in the trajectory it would go. The Hammer bolted diagonally downwards, spinning and swinging as it went, splintering off wood and iron fillings in its wake. 

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GM

 

After Rene brought down the hammer so to speak the floor gave way ever so slightly.  In the battered aftermath Rene would catch notice of the third mask.  A soft whisp of smoke rising from the mouth fading away into nothingness.  Again the painter was left with an empty mask and cloak.  Completing the set with a third.  The last cracked into four pieces due to Rene's last attack.

 

Whispers carried themselves throughout the room before coming to an abrupt stop.  Suddenly the light would come back on as the creepy ambiance faded away.  The door to the classroom creaked open.  Once again the music could be heard playing for the faintest of moments amidst the sound of the door swinging, but it was difficult to place.  

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Rene stretched and felt his body. It felt bruised. No doubt his real body was asleep outside the "apartment", it was merely his sense of self that had been pummelled. But it felt real enough. As real as anything in the land of Dreams. 

 

Which meant both less and more real at that same time. 

 

He straightened up, stiffly. No good pondering and wailing over the sharp insults he had taken from the masked men. The more he thought about them, the longer they would last. Instead, he stopped, knees less aged here, to inspect the masks. 

 

Mares. He knew about these demons. The masks were a dedication to them. They brought about the worst type of nightmares by sitting on sleeping chests. They lived and breathed darkness, insidious and relentless. Their heart - or what passed for a heart, resided in clay jars, and sold to the residents of the Dreamlands as trinkets or trophies. Or worse. 

 

He stroked his beard in contemplation. They were dark creatures, but light was poison to them. With his magic paintbrush he could fill the air with bright sunlight. But that was with his body, outside. 

 

No matter then. He was able to deal with these hollow men without it. Now, he needed to press on...

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Whilst she could probably stay insubstantial for as long as she wanted, hopefully long enough for Mother Unit to figure out something was wrong, but Devon’s attempt to influence her no amount of power could stop that.


“Trust me I don’t feel fear, I grew up in deep space after seeing the grand majesty of infinity there is very little that can still affect you.â€


As she spoke she adjusted her density from being almost translucent to her maximum density, luckily she didn’t have to worry about imaginary floor strength.


“I am also immune to this human emotion called love, but still that was very rude.â€

 

Turning around she punch Devon in the face with as much force as she could muster.

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GM

 

Devon's body was sent flying by the force of Daphne's blow.  Crashing into a nearby cafeteria table he splintered the wood in perfectly symmetrical fashion.  The shadowy blob where his abs should be exploded in a shadowy burst leaving nothing behind as the apparition of her dreams dissipated.  Only the perfectly cracked table showed any sign of Devon's presence.

 

The student body were all clamoring over one another to get to their feet.  Their unfeeling stares settling on Daphne again.  They were clearly not an impressive fighting force.  Akin to facing down a large group of regular day to day civilians.  Perhaps to invoke continued feelings of sympathy.  But still together they amassed a large number of students.  And that did indeed mean something.

 

The leader of this legion of students, at least as far as the obvious was concerned, charged for Daphne's now far from translucent body again. His claws shattered on impact.  They regrew immediately, but the dreamscape made for a dazzling visual as the claws burst in confetti like explosions against Daphne's durably tempered skin.  "If physical might, and emotional manipulation will not bend your knee.  There are other methods.  Human or not, your fate as a nightmare is sealed."

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GM

 

As Rene continued navigating through the dreamed up hallways.  Rene found his surroundings growing more detailed as he past them.  The dream a reflection of its host will, reacting to a more lucid mind.  Finding his way to another classroom.  This one ransacked to the bits.  Chairs and desks upturned in the aftermath of something violent.  On the floor was a single cloak and mask.  Having apparently given someone as much discomfort as Rene had with three of them.  Suddenly the aged painter caught sight of an axe coming for his neck.  Stopping just short of hitting him as the owner pulled back at the last second surprised.  "Rene."

 

It was Mona.  Now dressed in a red private academy uniform, most likely a misguided attempt to try and blend in with her surroundings.  "There is something you might want to see."  Mona pointed at the chalkboard into the classroom.  Every inch of it covered with the same words.  WAKE UP!  Well that wasn't entirely true.  Perhaps under the translation of Rene's glasses.  In actuality the text was in some sort of binary code.  Using some sort of alien symbols instead of the regular combination of numbers.

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"Careful with that axe, my dear!" said Rene, pulling at his collar. "I had quite enough of that in the French Revolution. Madame Guillotene is not as pretty as she sounds. And she doesn't sound that pretty, either..." he said. In the real world, he would have felt sweat and pumping blood. Here, he just sort of wobbled with anxiety. 

 

Still, he was glad that Mona was there by his side. 

 

"Nice outfit by the way. Very colourful" he commented as he followed her gaze to the blackboard. 

 

He studied it for a moment and adjusted his glasses. 

 

"Very interesting, but what does it mean I wonder? Layers upon layers of words and meanings. Life is like an onion, you peel back one layer and another presents itself" he contemplated. 

 

"This, however, looks very strange. Inhuman perhaps. Like the Yellow Sign, or dimensions beyond, or even worlds and strange things from distant stars. All beyond me..." he conceded. 

 

"But something, or someone is leading us here and there. Onwards, say I! this vision is not one I will recede from!"

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GM

 

The Axe changed shape into a pen before Mona stuffed it away into her pocket vest pocket.  "My dream magic has limited potency when drawing upon waking dreams.  Daydreams, someone's imagination, or even artistic expressions like the blank canvas in your residence.  Inside of an actual dream I can more comfortably dress the part so to speak."

 

Examining the chalkboard she clearly expressed a similar train of thought.  "Yet our surroundings are very strangely human.  I have been in the dreams of many a creature.  This is an imagination that has clearly been immersed in your civilization.  Perhaps a brainwashed cult member?  no matter, my duty is not to judge the dreamer.  Merely protect the divide between the Waking and the Dreaming."

 

The pair began walking through the campus hallways again.  In the distance the faint sounds of movement could be heard.  The signs on the wall hinting that they were headed to a cafeteria.

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Rene pondered Mona's last words. If her sole duty was to protect the divide, then...well, it was a helpful role, no question about it. Although he noted that he had sent that divide asunder on time, when it suited him. His power was also from the realm of imagination and dreams. Bringing forth denizens from that world and painting lightning, sunbeams, and silken webs onto the world of the waking was something that prodded that divide harshly. 

 

And yet, and yet...there were things abound that did not just prod the divide but threaten to destroy it all together. 

 

He just hoped Mona would stay well inclined. 

 

"The Cafeteria!" he said, cheerfully, smiling with sparkling eyes. "I think my old ears can actually hear something! well...onwards then? I would like a croissant and some sweet coffee!" he said, licking his lips. 

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