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Sweet Dreams (Aren't made of this)


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Daphne wasn’t expecting a negative reaction, she never did  and was always disappointed when people reacted badly. So when Rene reacted well it wasn’t a stretch, but she still gave him a massive friendly smile.  

 

“Thanks it was a little derivative but I like the general narrative. At least before that meanie invaded my dreams, talking of which we better hurry to find out who he is or where he’s gotten to. It’s difficult to ready one mind in the dreamscape much too much interference, beside the interference is much more interesting...â€

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GM

 

"Such worries!  There is much stirring in the shadows.  Rumblings speak of doom and gloom as an army rises.  But ze world it will not end as long as I may pour another glass."  At this Henri slammed his glass on the bar.  "Bartender another.  Mademoiselles et Renee.  Everyone knows if you 'ave questions.  Always ask ze bartender, non?"  The wry smile on his face was comparable to a parent waiting for their child to open a birthday present.  Pure excitement.

 

Wordlessly the bartender poured Henri another glass of his beverage, and thereafter gave Rene his wine that lived up the man's imagined expectations.  Like a windup toy he would stare forward and resume the process for glass cleaning.  On first appearances, he did not seem like the sort of person anyone would ask anything.  An unassuming man in his mid forties wearing a bookish outfit.  His muteness hinting that he was merely another part of the dream environment.  If it weren't for the fact that he stood behind the bar, one would be hard pressed to even assume his role there amongst the other background actors of this dream production.

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GM

 

"Oui! Ze Bartender! Eyes of open faces, Ears of loose tongues!"

 

"Ettendant! Bartender! May I have un moment of your time, Merci?"

 

Rene straightened himself up. He Beret was adjusted, his glasses pushed onto his face, and his attire pulled to attention. He had the distinct sensation of being flush with alcohol. It was his experience that drinking alcohol would oft cause one to be drunk. He had not quite expected it when it was, in essence, imaginary wine. But then, he knew more than anybody that Imagination was real, and reality just an imagination. Why, who was to say that he himself and all his wonderful and extraordinary experiences were anything more than the visions and writings of some other fool?

 

"Bartender, tell me, what brews in this bar and in this town. Besides your excellent liquor? Is there war ahead? Apprehension? Some shadow, some ill, some beast?"

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Whilst Daphne didn’t show it the wider dreamscape unsettled her a little, she was use to the comforting hum of other minds around her. They were still there but they felted muffled as if from a great distance. It was amazing how quickly Daphne got use to the presence of humans around her.

 

For now she was content for Rene to carry on with the investigation of the bad things happening in the dreamlands just the hints of his thoughts was fascinating to her, though she dare not try to read his brain fully she was happy to just pick up his stray thoughts.

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GM

 

The bartender set the glass down.  His head moving stiffly to face Rene.  "Howdy Pardner!  I reckon you should avoid the train station.  A group of varmints have been riding the station out of town nonstop.  Them's some troublemakers up to no good if I ever did see one.  Y'all be care now you hear?  Might just round you up for their little expedition."

 

The bartender's answer was clearly in character with the location in the Dreamscape.  A distinct dialect native to old Western movies and a vocabulary that matched the background noise further emphasized that point.  What it didn't make abundantly clear was whether the 'varmints' in question where also part of the Dreamscape.  Or if they were the villains that the group was chasing after.

 

The reality, as loosely as the term could be applied, of the situation was that distinguishing fact from fiction was far less simple a matter when both fact and fiction had become fully mutable.

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"You betcha, partner! Ze Varmints! Yee hah!" said Rene in his worst, and awful, American accents. He despised the simplistic American Westerns. And enjoyed them at the same time. 

 

He drowned his drink down his throat. Did imaginary wine make you imaginary drunk?

 

If you imagined it. 

 

"Right than, Henri, Madame....we have been told not to go somewhere. And as you are both no doubt aware, telling somebody not to do something is baiting them. The only human response is to do it, just to spite the order. We shake our chains and wail at being controlled. Even if we lose control by doing it" he said, gently slamming his glass down. 

 

"Now, my legs are old and weak, my back is bent and broken. Do you think we could get some horses?"

 

He killed the urge to get a revolver too. 

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Daphne put her feet up on the table they were currently sat at showing off her rather impressive cowboy boots, or at least that what she always called them. She had also somehow managed to find a cigarillo from somewhere, though she didn’t even think of lighting the thing it was purely for effect.

 

“Well it a dreamscape so we should be able to just think some up some horses if need be, though you’ve got to be careful of the Pink Elephant effect. As cool as it could be I don’t think Pinkie Pie is the best mount to use for a Western. In fact let’s do this properly.â€

 

Lucky whilst Daphne was awash in pop culture her nature meant she had, when she wished, a rock solid mental control. Imagining a pure white steed as fit for a masked lawman she put her fingers to her lips and blew a loud whistle to summon the beast.

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  • 4 weeks later...

GM

 

Daphne's white steed was conjured upon her willpower.  Not that the group was immediate privy to the sight of the creature.  After she whistled it galloped inside through the entrance of the saloon.  Prompting an autonomic protest by the bartender to remove the horse from his establishment.  Which Mona complied on the girl's behalf.

 

Deadbeat cringed momentarily still reeling from Rene's American accent.  Not that is own attempts would fare much better.  "Je ne sais pas (I don't know) what is this Pinkie Pie.  But ze colorful elephants are not such a worry in ze dreamscape.  Remember to be be careful with ze sentient creatures when dream weaving.  It is how you say, complicated?  Many of the creatures in this dreamscape may have once existed as a stray thought."

 

 

He then found himself himself working on yet another glass of whatever spirit suited his fancy.  Raising his glass into the air to do so.  "Cheers.  You two should remain careful.  Ze dream shaping.  It can be addicting.  Many a traveller has found himself lost in the experience.  Forgetting reality is never as perfect as one's dreams."  The next part of Henri's statement came off as almost bitter.  "But, it is better to be grounded in reality for the Waking.  Now, let us ride?"

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Rene took the lead from Daphne. If riding it was to be,then a horse would be called for!

 

His memories of horses were locked from centuries ago. The horse of the field, of the battle. Before the time of automobiles, horses were valuable, the way to travel. One wanted them to be strong sturdy. Not flashy, like the Cowboy movies. 

 

In trotted a smaller, less glossy horse. Rene could not say the breed. It was built for endurance rather than speed, to plod long miles without complaint or falter, rather than to ram lance into foe. It was the horse of his youth. 

 

"Ah well, the turtle wins the long race....ooooff.....oooff...I need a hand here...."

 

With Henri giving him a firm shove up the rear to propel him to the saddle, Rene was horsed. 

 

"I hope this dream has soft earth. Preferably rubber" he complained. "If I fall from this..." he sighed. 

 

"Anyway, onwards! Once more to the breach, dear friends!" he yelled and waved his Beret in the air, trotting out. 

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  • 4 weeks later...

GM

 

Mona had conjured up a brown thoroughbred race horse.  It was designed for speed.  With haunches that kicked off the plains easily enough.  The group traveled the Western plains easily enough.

 

When they had arrived to the station the train had just finished loading up.  The astral selves of many a person could be found inside the locomotive.  All tied up and held hostage in various carts.  Guarded by more of the Hand of Mara that Rene had fought off earlier.  In the frontmost cabin stood the reptilian creature that had fought with Daphne.  The vehicle itself was guarded by more nightmares.  All riding shadowy horses with dark flames whipping off horse and rider alike.  In terms of numbers, they were vastly outnumbered comparatively.

 

The loud whistle gave a clear sound of intention.  The locomotive had been started up and would begin it's movements on the tracks.  Taking their kidnapped victims to whatever torturous destination had been intended.

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Daphne spurred Silver into action, trying to catch up to the leaving train as rapidly as she could. She understood that in the weird twisted logic of the dreamscape it all boiled down to who could manipulate the rules of the dream to the best. If this creature was native to this area then it could probably out perform on of them, but both of there minds?

 

Not wanting to risk her idea being lost to the wind she transmitted her thoughts directly into rene’s mind.

 

If we combined our thought we should be able to dream up an obstacle to halt the train and catch up to them.

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"Why my dear, that is a most excellent plan! How about a rock slide?" he answered. 

 

Rene was good at this anyway, in the "Real world". Summoning up things from his imagination like brush strokes on reality. Could it work here, with his companions?

 

"ZUt Alors! Oui! A rock slide! Just like in ze awful Western Movies which I never watch! A classic! With the low sun shining in the face of the driver! With the long shadows creating a beautiful spectacle of bronze and orange! Oui!"

 

He looked up at the scenery, scanning for cliff faces. His eyes fared not well in any world, but his mind could see the world as a sea of impressions. He could not read with it, but for beauty, artistry, and shadowed rubble in a low sun, it was better than any eye. 

 

"By Jupiter!" he yelled to the wind, whilst his horse ran, a way behind Mona and Danci's more fluid steeds. And, from the heavens, a roaring thunderbolt, striking some rubble on a cliff...

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  • 2 weeks later...

GM

 

The boulders travelled downhill.  Trailed after by mu and more debris.  Turning into a full blown landslide the train was knocked right onto its side.  Flinging the passengers all around.  Both foe and victim had been rocked around by the sudden attack.

 

The lizard like abomination's loud hiss cut through the air.  It wasn't long before he began making demands out f the Hand of Mara.  Not that the silent creatures had a lick of self preservation about them.  Single minded in the pursuit.  "Foolz.  Fix this aberration, lest I turn you into an ashtray.  I don't care what our mistress wants, if you can't even do your jobzzz."

 

The train was a mess of smoke and metal.  But it seemed the Hand of Mara could not simply will it repaired for some reason.  As the masked beings merely circle around the locomotive at first.

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Rene pulled his robust steed to heel to observe the situation. 

 

"Damn these eyes! I could swear that the train just crashed!" he shouted at all and sundry. 

 

He aimed his steed at a slow walk towards the train, addressing the lizards. 

 

"Attention! The land of dreams is not unguarded. It is not unprotected! All stories are here, good, bad, and ferocious and meek, strong and ill! It is nobodies place to intrude on ze final liberty, a man's dreams!" he said, some passion and anger inflaming him. 

 

"What then, are you? A parasite? an infection?" he demanded, bold and unwavering. 

 

"Something is amiss. I smell it. What say you? What say you?"

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  • 1 month later...

Daphne was having some much fun she almost forgot that there was something seriously dangerous going on in this corner of the dreamlands. She slid off the horse and strolled over to beside Rene doing her best badass cowboy impression.

 

“We won’t allow you to do any further harm to the dream lands or their temporary or permanent inhabitants. If you surrender right now we’ll try to find you a suitable location where you can’t hurt anyone.â€

 

She tried her best to be understanding to alien intelligences, even if they apparently were out to do harm. After all she was an alien to this world herself, though she far from wanted to harm anyone here.

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GM

 

"Infection, he says.  Surender, she demands."  The lizard creature laughed mockingly.  Rarr seemed undeterred by the delay.  Pushing a cart from the train out of its way while shouting.  "There shall be no surrendering.  We are salvation!  Nocturne shall rise.  Nothing you vermin do will prevent your salvation."

 

The ancient nightmare peeled its head back and roared in such a manner that gave credence to it having been dreamt up by caveman.  It was a being of primordial fear.  The Hand of Mara shuffled of of the train one by one.  Ever silent none showed any signs of pain from the massive accident the heroes caused.  Only the kidnaped humans on the vehicle seemed deterred, with not a single astral self still conscious.

 

"Listen here aged one.  All manner of stories may lie here.  But only those who serve Nocturne have the right to spin tales"  The irony of an ancient creature calling a far younger being an aged one entirely lost on it.

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"Nocturne. Never heard of him. Or her" replied Rene stiffly. 

 

"I do not believe in authority. Especially not here. Liberty! Liberty! Liberty! If not in the world of dreams, of stories, of imagination, then where? Non! Nobody has any right to impose their will on others. Not anywhere. But most of all here!" he said. Something about it made him furious. And when Rene got furious, as opposed to just passionate, his voice became as cold and firm as tumbling gravestones. His eyes were full of cold crystal ice. 

 

"Every chain Nocturne weaves, know that I will break. Every prison she builds, I will crush" he said defiantly. "And that includes you, whatever you are!"

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Daphne raised an eyebrow at both the lizards and Rene's comments. Not that she couldn't claim that the whole thing was very exciting. An potentiality dangerous. Still she had to least try for a peaceful solution.

"There are places in the Dreamland where you exist quite happily without harming anyone, or any thing. This is you one chance to retreat without harm, if you don't we'll have to stop you efforts."

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GM

 

Even their dreamside companions Mona and Henri appeared to have not heard the name before.

 

Rarr roared out again.  "Fix the contraption and return to the Villa.  I'll Rip  Their headsss off myself."  A sizeable number of the Hand of Mara pulled out their twin machetes and began marching towards the horse riding heroes.  The saurian abomination breathed out a black smoke giving each of the arcane footsoldiers a whispy horse made of shadows.  Apparently the creature was not above the ambiance of both sides riding steeds.  "None shall stop the Demoiselle's will from being imposed upon you.  Long live Nocturne!  Long live the Demoiselle!"

 

Rarrr's voice slipped into more of a lisp the further the creature got agitated by both Rene and Miss Grue telling him that his efforts would be for naught

 

"To arms."  Mona shouted.

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  • 1 month later...

GM

 

The giant Lizard creature backed off.  Slinking into the ground as if the dirt had swallowed him whole.  His disappearance was with good reason.  Opposite the quartet stood one hundred of the Hand of Mara.  Each wielding a machete in each hand.  There wispy horses galloping towards the group without uttering a single sound.

 

Both sides of them were flanked before being overwhelmed by a mass of bodies.  Half the group focused their efforts on Mona while using their machetes to block a path from anyone assisting her.  She ducked and weaved out of as many machetes as she could on her horse.  But eventually one managed to slash the dream guardian directly across the chest with more riding by and slashing with their machetes.  

 

Throughout the series of lacerations adorned on her form a stream of silvery liquid would come forth.  Mona did not scream.  Her face winced in pain as the assault continued.  But she never screamed.  The other half of the forces focused on Miss Grue.

 

The Grue was able to become insubstantial in concert with their blades.  Making it appear as if the machetes were going through her.  Occasionally Daphne would lean back or even harden in density to deflect the blades.  But, not a single machete came close to piercing her flesh no matter how many dove in.

 

Deadbeat reached out with his hands.  Summoning an acoustic guitar that looked as if it belonged on the soundtrack of a Western.  In theme with their surroundings he would begin to strum a tune.  With the expressed goal of putting those which weren't his allies to sleep.  His horse buckling around the mass of horse riding, goblin masked, machete wielding shape shifting demons.  None of him seemed to be lulled by his musical stylings.  "It seems force is ze answer."

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