[open] october nightmare/fog catchall & overflow

[reticence]

WHO: Faolan and YOU?
WHERE: Dreamscapes and around the city
WHEN: Spanning the month of October
WHAT: Catch all/overflow for the October nightmare/fog events
WARNINGS: Violence, death, references to sexual behavior and threats; will updated as needed

ii. nightmares

a) dubhan cw: death
[The nightmare starts as it's always done. The street is narrow and dark, and though it's difficult to identify for certain, they're definitely in Ireland. Faolan's home-town. The streets old and well-worn with the feet of many a traveler like those who have dared to brave the damp, chilly night.

Faolan stumbles from a nearby pub. It's where he'd been, the night Dubhan had died. Drinking with his friends, celebrating their upcoming year at University, while his brother had bled out in the alleyway where his attackers had left him for dead. Well not this time. This time he won't fail him. His brother. His hero.

Dubhan.]

Hey!!!

[Faolan calls out, lunging at the closest passerby, reaching to grab them by the lapels. He probably looks like a mad drunk but he doesn't care. He needs to find him. Before it's too late.] Where is he? You need to help me find him!

b) laurent
[This time, the nightmare is different. This time, there are no damp, narrow streets of Ireland. This time, his brother is nowhere to be found. This time, he is not forced to watch his boyhood hero killed before his eyes while he stands aside, unable to do nothing.

This time they have Laurent.

Faolan fights against his compulsion. He fights against whatever it is that has him frozen in this spot, with everything he has, until finally a scream bursts forth. He doesn't care what happens to him, he doesn't care if their attention turns from Laurent onto himself, he needs to make them stop, he needs someone to help him make them stop.]

Help!!

iii. the fog

[Faolan doesn't know what to make of it at first, this fog that creeps its way across the city. He's used to living his life on edge, constantly on watch from the fear of attack, given his position of bodyguard. But whatever it is that has brought this fog has only doubled that sensation. That feeling as though someone is watching from the shadows. It's unnerving, and coupled with the nightmares he's been experiencing each night, Faolan feels as though he's losing his mind.

Leaving Laurent safely at home (with the promise that he would call him should even the whisper of trouble come knocking, because yes he really is that paranoid, the lack of decent sleep is really starting to get to him), Faolan decides that it's worth going out for coffee and trying to get himself to relax and take a breath.

At least that had been the idea, up until the arrow comes hurtling through the fog in his direction, to wedge itself in the grass of the curb before him. Faolan whips his head around in the direction that the projectile had come from and reaches for the weapon at his side, but how does he protect himself from arrows, especially ones that are shot from an enemy in the fogs that he cannot yet see...]

Comments

[reticence]

[ continued from here ]

Faolan reaches to brace Laurent as he stands. Gazing up at him before moving to push up and stand himself. An arm on his waist to hold him steady -- he can't help the contact, he needs the reassurance himself just now. To have been on the other side of those bars, to have to watch such things happen, he needs this contact just now. The solid warmth of Laurent's body under his hands, whole and alive and safe, thank god he's safe.

His eyes never once leave Laurent's as he gazes down at him and tries to figure out how hard to push. He hadn't answered Faolan's question, after all, but they've been over this before. Laurent will tell him everything he needs to know, when he's ready. As shaky as he is, he supposes that when isn't now.

Of course, Faolan can't say that he blames him. How can he put into words anything he feels himself? To say that he'd had a bad dream and had to check on him, it sounds ridiculous. And yet. With a barely perceptible shake of his head, Faolan steps forward to wrap his arms around the other man, and though Laurent had once refused such a gesture before Faolan begs him internally to please accept it now.

[anguinous]

Laurent wobbles for a second before steadying himself, eyes dropped to the ground as he smooths his t-shirt flat. He's in the process of collecting himself and lifting his eyes to study Faolan once more when the man steps into his space and wraps his arms about him.

It isn't unpleasant, exactly, but it's still something Laurent is only used to from his brother. His heart beats faster, both at the proximity of the other man and at the thought: his brother, who in his dreams he had thought --

With a degree of hesitance Laurent begins to wrap arms around Faolan in turn, movements stiff and uncertain.

"Faolan?" he prompts.

[reticence]

[ continued from here ]

[The man hadn't been anticipating a girl to launch such an attack like that against him and so it is that he goes down easily, knocked out right away with the powerful kick that sends him sprawling head-first into the wall beyond.

Unfortunately there is only one element of surprise and it has been taken. And there are three other men left now for her to take on, one of whom has his arm around Laurent's neck.]

Pathetic. [He murmurs, and gestures one of the other men forward. This next one of course producing a switch-blade knife from the back pocket of his jeans.]

Come here, little miss. Why don't you try me on for size.

[reticence]

Well, it isn't an enthusiastic return of his embrace but it's a start. Besides, it isn't enthusiasm that Faolan's after just this moment anyway. Faolan tightens his arms around Laurent slightly and moves to press his face against his shoulder for a long moment, breathing in the scent of him through the shirt that he'd been wearing to bed, before he forces himself to pick his head up again and look at him. Laurent has so far responded better to Faolan offering something of himself first, before allowing himself to open up in turn. And if that's the case...

"I dreamed I'd failed you," he replies, after a long moment's pause, studying Laurent's face for whatever it is that's there in his eyes. "It was... Only a dream I know, but it felt so real that I..." He shakes his head again, pressing his lips together tightly. He doesn't need to bother Laurent with specifics, not when he can feel how stiff he stands in his arms.

"I didn't know that you were awake, I didn't mean to startle you. I only meant to check in and see that you were alright." He pauses for a breath, before asking quietly, "Are you alright?"

cw: violence and mortal injury

[reticence]

[ continued from here ]

[ooc: WELL him not being alive would be a bigger regain i think since no one else has gotten dead!dubhan alas...]

Three.

[Faolan pushes himself forward and around the corner where he knows the men will be. He's prepared himself for a fight, he's even summoned help. But the fight's already done with, and the decision has already been made. In retrospect, he probably should have known better than to try and change fate. But all he'd ever wanted was to have his brother back.

They turn the corner and Faolan levels his gun at the man he knows will be there. The man with his knife to Dubhan's jugular. And the man takes one look at Faolan and his backup companion in Dave and draws it across his throat.

Faolan feels the gesture as though it were to his own throat, for in some ways he almost wishes that it were.]

[reticence]

[ continued from here ]

[Faolan is at least armed, which is something. Not that he knows whether that will protect either of them from whatever it is they are being threatened by. Which is part of the reason that he isn't terribly keen on rushing forward into the fog to have it out with them, all things considered. He'll take his chances running away with this new man as opposed the alternatives, if it's all the same to anyone else.

Of course, there is the solution to the locked door problem right there. Faolan's got a gun, and while it may not help against their pursuants, it will certainly work against a lock. Shooting it out will mean that they can't lock the door behind them either, but if given the choice between being locked out or not being able to lock the door behind them, he'll take it.]

It's locked, isn't it.

[anguinous]

Is he?

Laurent isn't sure he knows. He finds the press of Faolan into his arms calming, the warmth of his muscles, but Faolan inevitably has to let go and draw back. He doesn't want to lie to the man, but neither does he quite feel ready tackle all the questions that talking about this will provoke.

"Tired," he says instead. "It's not even light out yet. I was going to make some tea, would you like something?"

He moves to slip out of Faolan's arms, aiming to turn and cross away from him toward the door and out into the kitchen.

[reticence]

Faolan frowns slightly at the other man as he steps away. He doesn't like that he can tell there's something wrong, more than Laurent will let on. But it's obvious that Laurent needs a moment, and so Faolan lets him go. Watching him for a moment before moving to trail after him, processing the other man's question after a time because he'd been too focused on Laurent himself to focus on his words.

He glances at the time as they pass a clock and contemplates his response -- but he'll not be ready for sleep any time soon. Nor does he want to be. Not to sleep and dream again of the things that he'd just seen. He doesn't think he's ready to shut his eyes again any time soon, not if it means facing such a scene as that.

"Yeah, I. Maybe coffee," he replies. Realizing after a moment that Laurent might have been offering to make it for him and speaking up to add, "I can make it myself, if it's too much trouble. I'm just. Not much for tea, me."

[parodeity]

[ it's sad that this isn't the first time dave's seen a blade cut through someone's throat. it's worse that this is better than that time in some twisted way, except it is far, far worse as well. a brother watching a brother's life fade -

anything of use he could say chokes in his throat and he knows he can't change this, because it is happening in front of his eyes which means he doesn't.

- he moves forward even as his mind locks up, planing to disarm the assailant even if it is already too late. ]

[anguinous]

"Coffee will keep you awake," Laurent points out mildly. "I drink tea this late designed to encourage sleep."

Something with chamomile, designed to soothe.

Laurent moves into the kitchen and carefully pulls down a cup, sets some water heating and begins fishing around in his tea collection.

"And since you are here, keeping me company, you can be assured you aren't failing me."

After all, Laurent had been paying attention to what Faolan said about his dream.

[reticence]

[ continued from here ]

[Faolan looks around at their surroundings, taking them in in response to the explanation. It's -- a lot to take in, really. The idea that a blind man might receive the memory of sight, and thus be able to see? But only in a dream. He's heard of Retrospec taking things away from people, and giving them abilities, but this again is new.

He glances aside at the other man again.]

I was not in this memory as the buildings around you were. Can you see me?

[ooc: continued here since capcha struck -- lmk if you'd rather continue somewhere else!!]

[reticence]

Faolan glances at the younger man as they trail into the kitchen. Moving to lean against the counter to watch him with his tea. "That is rather the point of coffee, yes," he replies, flicking the corner of his mouth up to soften his words. "Though I wouldn't say no to a real drink either, I suppose." He supposes he could use a real drink more than he could use a coffee.

It's the rest of Laurent's comment that takes the wind out of his sails, however. He hadn't been certain that Laurent had registered anything he'd said, after all (despite the hug) up until that response. He glances aside, away from the younger man for a moment, uncertain he can look him in the eye, uncertain how he feels about Laurent's reassurances in turn.

"Does keeping you company in the kitchen really count towards such a thing?"

[anguinous]

"I needed the company and you were here. I think it counts."

Even if he frightened him for a minute first. Leaving the water to heat Laurent turns and leans against the counter, watching Faolan and the way he can't meet his eyes.

"You know where everything is, if you want a drink."

Not that Laurent refuses to help him, but more he doesn't know what he wants. There's wine and whiskey and cognac, but Laurent can't be sure how strong he wants a drink to be and it might be easier if Faolan decides for himself.

[reticence]

[ continued from here ]

[Us both? In his moment of shock, of sorrow and loss, Faolan isn't certain that he quite understands how Ardyn could possibly hurt as much as he does in this moment. He isn't certain he knows how much more he could hurt beyond how much he does now.

He feels the crackle of electricity starting to buzz against his skin and he starts to realize that Laurent is gone. He's gone, and what's left in his place is--

Releasing the creature in his hands -- even though he knows it isn't Laurent anymore -- it still feels as though he is giving up a piece of his soul as he finally allows himself to let go and pull free. Allows Ardyn to pull him back just before his contact with whatever Laurent has become becomes dangerous.]

Please. [He whispers to the other man, desperately. Ardyn needs to take over for him here, he -- he can't. Whatever that might be, it used to be Laurent, and he can't.]

[ooc: continued here since capcha struck, lmk if you'd rather continue somewhere else!!]

[complementing]

[A switchblade. Minako doesn't let her face betray any fear, but her adrenaline spikes upon seeing it. Any hit with that could have her bleeding out and worse off than Laurent, completely useless to both him and Faolan. If only she had a moment to search the downed thug for a similar weapon! But no, she'll have to improvise.

She pats her pajama pockets, and in a distinctly Muran moment, produces something from within that she wasn't expecting to be there. But her earphones have never failed her before. Wrapping one end around her fist, she prays they don't fail her now.]

Come and get some.

[Need to draw them out one by one, can't let them take advantage of their numbers, need to stay closer to Faolan in case he snaps out of whatever is holding him and can run in to help--

All of that logic slips away, and then she's winding up her earphones like a lasso, whipping it out at the thug's wrist to try and snap the switchblade from his hand.]

[blessmefather]

Yes, actually I can. The shape of you that is.

[ Matt turns and points down the street toward where strangers in the dream-memory are walking, flickering strokes and shapes that move and form something human. ]

The same way I see the other people. You're a bit more detailed since you're closer but I can't make out your facial features.

[reticence]

Faolan isn't certain that he quite agrees with Laurent's words, but he's not going to argue against him either. He huffs out the breath of a laugh as Laurent directs him to their liquor supply as well. He supposes he did tell Laurent not to wait on him. Trust Laurent to phrase it like that, though.

Running a hand through his hair, Faolan pushes himself up straight and makes his way to the liquor cabinet as indicated. He pauses for a moment before reaching for a tumbler and his whiskey. Proper Irish whiskey, thanks very much. Everything else is too sweet, he wants to be able to feel this burn. He pours himself a healthy few fingers of the stuff, taking a sip, before adding a bit more.

"I dreamt that you were taken," Faolan says quietly. He owes Laurent at least so much an explanation as this, though he keeps his eyes on the whiskey on the counter in front of him for the moment. "From right under my nose. One minute you were there with me and the next."

[anguinous]

Taken.

Laurent feels a chill run through his core, and drops his eyes back away to the mug behind him on the counter once more.

"And here I thought I had inspired you to keep your eyes on me at all times."

A weak attempt at a joke, perhaps, but he can feel his heart beginning to race uneasily. The cold, damp, musty cell creeping back into his memory.

[reticence]

Always with the dry wit. Faolan appreciates Laurent's sense of humor in general, but he feels too raw to be truly amused by the commentary. Especially when it feels as though it is a little at his expense, especially with a comment like that.

He forces himself to take a deep breath. Should he say more? Laurent has not exactly asked, but maybe it will help Laurent in his sharing if he continues to share himself. It had worked last time, hadn't it.

"This will teach me to look away, I suppose," he replies, and the quip falls equally as flat in return before he continues. "I tried to find you. I tried to save you, but I was. Too late." He pauses for a long moment again, looking down into his drink. "I couldn't do anything." Nothing but watch. It was terrible. He raises his glass and tosses back another healthy swallow of his drink, relishing the burn of it, helping him come out of his thoughts and back to the here and now.

"I just. I know it sounds ridiculous, but after a dream like that. I just needed to see that you were okay." He picks his head up to glance across the kitchen to Laurent.

[anguinous]

He stares down the mug a moment longer before turning to it, pouring hot water into the cup and watching the tea steep.

"Well," he says after a long moment. "You can see me. I'm here."

Not in the hands of someone else, not locked in a cell with a man with a broken nose. He lifts the cup to try and inhale the scent of chamomile to try and steady himself, but his stomach twists at the sweetness and he finds himself setting it down again and trying to focus on his breathing. Slow. In through his nose, out through his mouth.

[reticence]

He is there. But he'd said that he'd been looking to see that he was okay. And Laurent certainly has not reassured him of such. Quite the opposite, in fact. Faolan watches him as he raises the mug of tea in front of himself and breathe it in before setting it down again.

Faolan knows that Laurent had dreamed too. That he had gone for the tea, that he had reacted as he had before, it must have been bad. After the dream he's had himself, he doesn't know how delicate a line he can walk tonight. Not when all he wants to do is simply take the younger man in his arms again and hold him tight.

"You are," Faolan replies, setting his glass down on the counter. He takes a step forward towards the younger man, reaching to brace a hand against his lower back. "And so am I. Those bars to keep me from you were only in my dreams. If there is anything I can do for you now..." He can see that something is wrong, after all.

[anguinous]

Bars.

Laurent cannot be sure if Faolan is talking about literal bars or not but the thought of it makes his stomach roll again anyway. It was too vivid, the feel of the man's hands on him. The sweat and musk and damp and god knows what else. He lets go of the mug and braces his hands on the counter, closes his eyes as he tries to breathe evenly.

"I think I need to sit down," he manages, a little more quietly. With a bucket, possibly, but his pride refuses to acknowledge that out loud. He can control this. Will there be anything left in his stomach now, anyway? Probably just bile.

[reticence]

Faolan steps closer, moving faster now just in case -- who knows what, he's not quite sure, perhaps Laurent passing out on him. Slipping his arm more firmly around Laurent's waist, concern coloring his features as he moves.

"Hey, easy," he says, rubbing Laurent's back gently. "I've got you, you're alright." Laurent looks pale, and with his hand on his back he can feel his breathing too even and forced. "Here, come sit with me on the couch. Can you walk?"

What's wrong, he wants to ask, but he supposes it's more important to find Laurent a seat first before he focuses on answers. The fact that that he's admitted to such a weakness outright is enough to be concerning, in Faolan's experience so far.

[reticence]

[Luckily, there aren't enough of them so that they're rushing her in a mob. The one who has Laurent needs to keep him in his grasp. Which means there are only two left. One of whom is coming at her, one of whom is backup.

The one with the knife has a knife because he's a thug. But he isn't an expert. When she comes at him with earphones, he isn't expecting that, and as such the knife is caught in the chord of the earphones and goes flying.

Unfortunately for Minako, that just leaves him unarmed and angry about it. With a snarl of rage he winds up for a punch instead. If he can't cut her, he'll just punch her. No qualms for hitting girls here. He'll make her pay for besting him like that...]

[reticence]

[Faolan stands frozen for a moment, as though he can't quite believe what he's seeing before him

late he's too late they've come too late even now even when he's had his second chance

before he's running forward and firing his gun at the man who killed his brother. Firing until he's out of bullets, not bothering to watch where he's hitting before he's running forward to his brother. Running to put pressure on the wound even though he knows it's too late, there's no stopping this. Dubhan seems to know this too, his hand coming up to close around Faolan's hand, shaking his head as he does.]