dreamcrystals | Journal Entry

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Journal Entry

Sender: 76
To: Everyone
Subject: Information

[This finds its way across the journals a few days after the dreamshift ends-]

Going to attempt to keep this short.

If you remember the journal wide post warning about the Story Eater? Here's more of that.

Most of what was fought in that dreamshift, if we're going to keep calling it that, were created or caused by the Story Eater tampering in it much like it would in stories. More than enough proof points to that, including stuff found at Baba Yaga's hut, and it was a small taste of what it's capable of for those among us that didn't take a detour to the Realm of Stories before ending up here. Those red-eyed things were Eraser influence, and it looks like Story Eater may have it's own new tricks as well.

Thing is? There are Erasers here as well, not just in dreamshifts. They're not the Noctaere and it's safer not to mistake one for the other; they're entirely different beasts from each other and pose their own dangers.

Noctaere are best not come into physical contact with, as from experience that can hurt you as much as any of their attacks; seems like only this dreamotion stuff is the best way to deal with them. Erasers you can physically wail on to an extent and get somewhere, but using other means can keep them down longer or put them down faster. Some are a lot stronger than others, depends on how much the Story Eater put in to them.

If you recall the quest on the board about the witches that were dumping paint on people before we suddenly found ourselves neck-deep in that Halloween dreamshift? Those were Erasers, likely based off The Wicked Witch from Wizard of OZ; one reason throwing water on them seemed to destroy them with what info that notice provided for anyone who went after them. From what I can guess, they were a test of some sort and your guess as to why is as good as mine.

Look for red eyes, and ink coming out of it. Likely based off of something in a story, possibly twisted in some way. Easiest way to identify an Eraser.

I'm not going to respond to any private messages about this. You want to talk privately? Come find me. Otherwise? Anything you've got to ask or say here is better off public access for others' sake.

[Might not answer everything either, but there it was. Written out as much as he was willing, strange as most words felt to write.

Was as much information as 76 had to share with what knowledge and details he had.]

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[Behind his mask, Reaper felt the cruel smile pull at his lips. He had learned far more things about his powers at Deerington, pushing the limits of what he could do. He hummed as 76 jerked away from him.]

Squirming already and no teeth applied....

[He clamped his weight down harder on 76, letting tendrils of himself curl and caress that mask as if searching for an easy way in even as he slammed 76 over and over. The man was tired and fighting on little else than instinct. He would know the moment of having control when it came, usually with some relaxation as the body gave up.

They'd both been in that position before. He knew what to look for to understand when he had room to investigate the corruption and wounds a bit more safely.]

[There was no answer other than the resistance still there despite the slams, shadow clawed hands gripping and clawing to try and push away. Even that knee digging in to Reaper's side, but the way his breathing wheezed and cut off spoke of injured ribs that 76 was just further aggravating from his thrashing. Trying to twist out from under as every touch left some frost behind on black leather.

Be a place under that mask along the top of the visor, and behind it pure black was spiderwebbing across the whites of his eyes like ink hitting water. Even coloring the blues that much darker.

It was getting harder the breath, and gradually that stolen breath had him slowing down, even as it was only claws hooked in to leather that kept hands from falling away. Head fallen back as he coughed and choked on that lack of air. The violence and his own body getting that fight beaten out of 76.]

[Reaper slowed his slamming when he sensed that 76 was losing his fight to resist. Oh he knew that some aspect of resistance would continue in some form, but it likely wouldn't require more than a few choice punches and twists of limbs. After all, he could hear the wheeze to 76's breath, and the man always has a habit to taking some injury to the ribs.

He withdrew his shadow tendrils back to himself when resistance was limited, and it was only then that he changed his position to sit on 76's thighs. He was in perfect position to add a punch or two where necessary.]

Now that you've been forced to behave yourself...

[He reached out to jerk off 76's gloves first.]

[Of course there was a growl-]

Don't get comfortable, thick ass.

[The most half-assed of insults wheezed out, head rested back against the floor as the corners of his vision had started to go dark. Currently there were white spots floating around, the shadows that had been holding tight to him flaking off like melted flakes of ice. Melting in the the floorboards, seemingly.

Those hands of his had sharper, more distinct claws that were pitch black, and hands an even darker shade of it than the last time Reaper had caught a glimpse of them. Streaks of a dark blue barely visible with its shade, streaked through that black like lightning scars.]

Pretty damn specific for someplace so nondescript.
You got it. I'll be there.
Thanks.

[She has to wonder if that spot has any kind of significance, but figures either she'll find out when she gets there or it's none of her damn business. Honestly, the promise of a stiff drink is what occupies her mind first and foremost— it's been way, way too long. There had been a lot of wine where she was last, but it didn't hit the spot in quite the same way, especially when you have a constitution that requires something hard-hitting to even start approaching drunk.

She doesn't keep him waiting long; this place isn't all that big to begin with, and before long he'll see a woman dressed in what can only be described as underwear walking up the path, with a sword in hand.

Never leave home without it.]

You 76?

Better than shit directions that are hard to follow. Be waiting.

[He knew the pain of being unable to get anywhere near drunk when it was most wanted, hard to even get a buzz that lasted for more than a few minutes. Still, despite the fact he kept a bottle of whisky in his bag back home for his traveling around it was more habit than anything else.

Still, 76 was right where he said he'd be. Sitting on a log that was sturdy, dragged in to that clearing weeks ago, if that recent. One of the places he would take a rest during his wanderings to try and keep busy.

Head lifted when he heard movement, tilted to the side for a moment before lifting p a gloved hand. Who was he to judge? He ran around in a mask and biker jacket because he thought it was 'scary' to some young punks.]

Yeah, that'd be me. Take a load off if you want.

[Part of the log. Whatever was wanted. He was pulling a bag from the side, his pulse rifle propped just behind him and within reach out of habit.

There was a jar pulled out, the liquid inside of it swirling like some moving dark and light blue galaxy. Actually sparkled like stars in the light.][Already offering it up. He had a few more.]

My, my such a creative insult. I am so very wounded.

[At this point, he knew that he had time with 76, at least until the younger man managed to settle in and concentrate on breathing. Once 76 managed to regain his breath, it would be more of a struggle, so he was planning on using the time that he had available to him fully.

He noted the strange flaking reaction, shaking his head a little. He took one of those hands and brought it closer for inspection. The corruption was definitely more defined, and he shoved up the jacket to see if he could spot the end point. No go, which meant 76 would have to lose the jacket.]

Now listen up, Boy Scout, I'm going to pull you to sit up and you're going to let me remove your jacket with minimal fuss. You struggle, I'll break some more ribs. Understood?

Not worth the thought for something better.

[Fingers twitched a bit, and despite the fact he'd been in such a cold air the skin was hot, like a fever was burning through it. Claws were also sharp, curved a little; gloves hid it all well enough, as did the sleeves of his jacket. The blue even looked a little like veins despite branching off like something else.

76 grunted, head turning to the side as if that was about all the answer he was willing to give. There was no trying to jerk his arm back- so there was that at least? No struggle shown yet.]

I'm sure that's the issue.

[Those claws could do damage, but then again, so could his. It seemed that they had moved beyond fighting for the time being, so when 76 didn't even bother to put up a fight about the jacket, he moved to unzip it first then work it up along the younger man's shoulders.

After that, he pulled 76 up slide his hands into the jacket to urge it off shoulders and down arms. Off it came with tugs to the wrists, but because he was such a nice person, he rolled it up and allowed it to be a pillow as he urged the younger man to lay down again a touch on the rough side.

Then he began his inspection.]

What a mess you are.

[There was some mumble with a tired buck mocking tone to it, expression completely hidden by his mask. Whatever.

76 did hiss a bit at the movement, and touch. The jacket looked as if it had taken a recent beaten itself, but nothing that would need repair; despite the severe heat damage it was still one piece and solid enough. Biker jacket was good like that.

There was a low growl when he was forced back down as well, but he still didn't struggle. Didn't help out too much on his end either, but he didn't make it harder. Even with his head was on the jacket rather than the ground. Fresh burns peeked out from the collar of his shirt, and along his arms amongst the blackened skin as it fresh black charcoal had been rubbed along it up to nearly his shoulders. The same dark blue lines as on his hands were there as well.

Bruising colored visible skin where it wasn't black.]

It'll be fine. [He'd be fine.]

[Now that was the defeatist spirit! He could appreciate a lack of help over actual resistance at this point, and that sort of passive resistance was still rewarded. It had to be or he expected the old asshole to start up again soon enough.

He turned the hand in his grasp this way and that, examining the discolouration and growling with soft disapproval. He ran a gloved finger over the marred skin, not that he could feel if it was soft or rough, but he would be able to tell if it was moist or dry. It was far more extensive than when he had accidentally entered 76's dream.

Then he reached out to grasp the collar of 76's muscle shirt and pull it down enough to pointedly tut at the sight of burns.]

You've delved too deep into the power that you've been given. That's reckless and stupid. You want to turn into a monster, hmm?

[Entire hand was black(and blue) with the discoloration, fingers twitching but not pulling away as he let Reaper have his little inspection. Why bother acting up yet if he was just getting a look at something he'd already seen, even if it had spread further.

His skin was dry, but there were places that looked a bit damp from burns despite them not being a different color. Gotten through despite not destroying the leather, and likely would have been worse without it all the same. Wheezing a bit still with every breath, eyes rolling behind his visor- even if he growled at the grabbing and tugging of his shirt color.

Burns trailed up his throat and down over his chest and shoulders. Likely went up under his mask a bit as well along his jawline. Some burns were visible enough on his forehead as it was.]

Already have, and I don't mean figuratively. Other world.

[They're definitely an interesting-looking pair between the two of them, though Kainé doesn't even give the mask a second look. Hell, whatever does it for him, right? It's his own business.]

Kainé.

[That'll do for introductions, she figures. Her name had been in the journal, so even that much was a little excessive.

She pauses for a moment to survey the immediate area before giving a single nod, propping her sword up against a stump before she moves to gracelessly drop down into a seat on the far end of the log. She gives the jar he offers a curious look, eyes widening just slightly as she reaches to accept it from him.]

Don't think I've ever seen anything like it. [Alcohol is pretty damn plain where she comes from.] Shit, you really made this yourself? How?

[Someone had been in a fight from what he could tell and not just one that would actually exhaust 76. This blackness was definitely not normal, and it was probably indicative of the strange powers that the younger man was firing off sometimes at random. Was 76 in control? He didn't think so.]

What kind of burns are these?

[He should know all about burns, considering he had scars of them all over his body. He knew they could be serious and should be tended quickly to limit the scarring, but of course 76 wasn't going to do that, was he?

Idiot.

Reaper snatched at the attack visor and the lower face guard to remove them both in order to determine how far the burns went since he couldn't see the edge of them with it on.]

And what monster would that be?

[76 had a number of burn scars across his body, knew exactly what they'd become if not treated. Part of him just didn't care, how his body healed 'naturally' would take care of most of it and leave more of the nasty scarring he already had on him.]

Fire.

[Intense heat and intense cold, but only happened because he'd literally leapt on to flames, was on the very source of them all and only did just enough to protect himself from it all. It was sheer luck that between shadow ice and leather that it wasn't worse than what was still there, and the biotic emitter and taken care of some of the burns.

There'd be no answer for that question, even if due to the daze that was keeping him from fighting -how tired he really felt- the moment he noticed his tactical visor and face guard were gone lips curled back in some silent snarl. Sharp teeth bared, and the surprisingly neatly trimmed beard unhidden by the mask. There was blood staining through facial hair, and proof he'd had blood in his mouth not that lung ago.

A dried trail of blood from his nose in to that neat mustache, too. Burns ran up along the underside of his throat, barely stopping before the edge of facial hair.

His eyes were a far darker blue, and black spiderwebbed across the whites of his eyes like links of ink bleeding in water.]

[A nod. All the introduction needed, names known and confirmed face-to-face.

His hand moved back once the jar was taken, leaning back briefly as he grabbed a second from the bag. This one was an odd mix of blues an reds that kept apart, meeting in the middle to create a vibrant purple. Even as the liquid and glitter swirled the colors remained separately identifiable.]

I picked up making it in the world before this one, moonshining. Definitely didn't look a damn thing like this. [Gesturing with the jar in his hand.] There's a type of honey here that looks like this, and it gives nearly anything it's mixed with the same appearance.

Color differs, depending on the nectar source the bees take from. Experimented in using that honey with this hobby, and this was the result I got after getting the balance right. [He had that much time on his hands, but he didn't regret it when it came to making something that could hit damn hard and actually did something for him.] Been calling it honeyshine, tastes as good as it looks, and hits a hell of a lot harder.

Debating making one with a smaller kick if I end up sharing it with people who- well. [Could get drunk off even the weakest alcohol.]

[Well, fire wasn't great, but it was better than most chemical burns, so that was something. He knew there was a story to how those burns were acquired, and he tutted behind his mask.]

Why were you playing with fire? Oh wait, it's because you can't help yourself.

[He set the visor and guard aside but within easy reach for the time being. His hand returned to grasp 76's chin lightly, turning that face from one side to the other so that he could examine the full extent of those burns. It also gave him a much better opportunity to see how 76 had done with his beard trimming, since it was probably usually a mess knowing the man.

The facial hair looked good. Real good. The burns, not so much. He didn't have the kind of medication that would soothe and treat the burns, which was a shame. He did wish he had his medical kit from Deerington.]

You're a mess. You need a clean up. [And the whole corruption thing.] And you're throwing yourself in a process I doubt you understand. Such a reckless asshole.

Whatever.

[Reaper could have whatever story in his head he wanted, because 76 was not going to explain exactly how he'd gotten in this shape. No, that would just give him more information that the soldier was very hard pressed to hand over with how the asshole had already been picking and pressing for it.

Didn't doubt Reaper would figure it out, Reyes wasn't stupid despite the entire show he liked to put on.

The burns thankfully didn't go under facial hair anywhere, by some miracle or his tactical visor set-up did something to protect that part of his head and face well enough. Across his forehead there were some patches that were healing burns, not as bad as other places.

The beard was well trimmed, as if taken care of that morning. Likely done more with a knife than anything proper, but for that it wasn't too shabby. Done, more than likely, so he could wear his mask more comfortably than any real attempt to shape beyond that, but it still fit and looked good.

The fingers at his jaw still had 76 baring sharp teeth, more so when he gritted out any words.]

I've always been reckless. [He knew more than he'd let on, even if there was still a wide learning curve.]

[It was obviously a fight of some kind, but the details were not known to him yet. He would sniff out the details eventually, and if anything, it gave him some intrigue to consider in his future. How exciting would that be, hmm? The fact that 76 was so tight-lipped meant it was from someone worth protecting from where he was sitting.

He examined what he could of the wounds, but at this point, he had nothing he could do for them. He had assembled a small medical kit for himself, but it wasn't here and that meant that he was going to have to make due with what was around or what they could buy. Healing wasn't his top priority usually.]

This is true. You need a leash to keep you from getting in too deep, despite knowing you can just fight your way out.

[He tapped a finger against the arm holster that held the biotic emitters.]

Unless you're carrying burn kit, we might have to resort to another one of these.

[Eyes narrowed at the tapping, knowing exactly what Reaper would be getting at before he even spoke, and a hand lifted to grip that rest as firmly as 76 could muster at the moment. Even tired he still had a grip on him, but it was as much fight as he could put up with the creeping black still there at his vision; at least the white spotting was gone. Hurt to draw too much air in to his lungs, still breathing all the same-]

Those are for emergencies only.

[And this was no longer an emergency, despite it being so obvious that one was missing, which meant he'd had a reason to use one earlier.

The hell was Reaper so worried about anyway? There was no reason for it as far as 76 and him went now.]

Got something I keep on me. One of the pouches at the shoulders of my jacket.

[With one at least visible with how Reaper had rolled the jacket, so said pouch was right by 76's head. Pocket sized med kit, more something he'd put together than anything else.]

Edited (html why) 2021-11-20 16:34 (UTC)

You are an emergency. Have you seen your ugly body right now?

[But he relented because he knew that one had been used in the first place. As annoying as 76 was on so, so many levels, the old soldier wasn't stupid either. When injuries were severe enough, corrections would be made. It wasn't like him who just shrugged at death and carried on because he literally hadn't found a way to die yet.

He reached out and pulled open the pouches one by one, mostly to be annoying as he investigated the contents of each even if he happened to find the small med kit before being finished.

He pulled out the med kit and rooted through it, and it didn't have everything that would be useful, but it still had enough. Of course, medical things required certain... degloving from him, which was never a comfortable experience.

Still, he tugged off his gloves and tucked them into his coat pocket. His fingers and parts of his hands were blackened and clawed, like he had been dead and something like frostbite or necrosis had set in. They looked similar but also different from 76's corrupted fingers.

Leaning over, he began to apply antibiotic salve carefully to the burns that were in the most exposed and mobile areas.]

My med kit would have had burn cream, but we'll make do with this.

Ain't had time to.

[A little pointedly, even if that was telling just how recently all of this had occurred. He'd been on his way somewhere to sit down and tend to himself, before running in to a giant completely dramatic pain in his ass.

Typical things were in those pouches- hell, there was even a makeshift sewing kit in there for quick hand repairs with a needle made for fabric and another for leather, even a curved-hook of a needle meant for sewing flesh had accidentally made it's way in there from repairing something else.

What looked like wrapped hard candies was also one of the random items, some foraged herbs and ginseng.

There was a different and clearly kept sterile curved-hook needle in that medical kit, too.]

I had a better one before, that is one I'm still working on.

[Didn't even blink at the appearance of Reaper's hands, his own settled by his sides. Resigned to this no matter how ridiculous it seemed-] Don't even know if this place has burn cream.

Huh.

[First she's heard of honey that can do anything like that, but hell, it's a dream world. The water itself could be full of fucking rainbows and she wouldn't be all that surprised at this point. Either way, the effect itself is pretty impressive, whether or not he'd intended it.]

Sounds like you really know your shit when it comes to this stuff. That outta necessity?

[There has to be some reason someone picks up a hobby like this. She gives a little bit of a shrug as she takes the jar and gives the contents another curious look before she takes an experimental sip.

God. Damn.

She closes her eyes tight for a moment, but her lips hitch upwards into a sharp grin.]

You weren't kidding, that is strong.

[A slow nod.]

Yeah. Most booze won't even give me a buzz unless I drink a lot of it quickly- and even then my system doesn't let it last long.

[Sure, it was likely meant so that most sorts of drugs wouldn't be in his system long, get him through being captured and whatever other scenarios came to mind of the group funding the entire experiment(or what came to the scientists' minds), but it was a real kick when it came to simple things like drinking. He might have kept a bottle of whiskey in his bag out of habit, but damn if the taste of it wasn't at least nostalgic.

Had to have something, after all. Right?

Held up his own jar to that grin before he was taking off his mask after a visible moment of thought, tactical visor and all. Took a drink from it, and that hiss was rough but pleased. Yeah, this was a good batch as well.

Gloved fingers smoothed down white facial hair; what of it showed anyway. Kept the beard and mustache well trimmed to fit under the mask at least.]

Can have a few jars if you'd like. End up with more than enough, have it stored in various places.

I bet not. You stopped taking care of yourself when the building fell on you.

[There was a lot that had gone wrong since Overwatch had fell on them both and so many other people. He didn't fault 76 for trying to make an escape and then consider tending, but it was easy to pick at anyway. So he would take the low hanging fruit.

He wasn't surprised by the item in the pouches, but none of it was particularly helpful for the injuries that 76 had actually sustained. These wounds would require a more long-term management.]

It's pathetic. You're dealing with burns and this is the best that you have.

[His fingers moved over the burns, trying to lock in the moisture being lost from the breach of skin with the salve. It wasn't best, but it was all that they had. So here they were. Burns around the goatee, across the cheek and down the neck where he had access.]

Where you are living? I'll at least see you back there. Last thing I need to is here you ended up face-down in a ditch.

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