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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I'm used to going all in with a pulse rifle or hands on. Been one hell of an adjustment working in any sort of magic.

Feel like an old dog having to learn new tricks still, but it is nice going the tried and true way with most of the creatures outside of those things.

What the fuck is a pulse rifle?

It's good to know there's still room to do things the old-fashioned way. Magic isn't exactly new, but I dunno how I feel about the way this kind of magic is powered.
Emotions and shit are pretty personal.

Basically it's a gun, good for some long distance with a lot of power packed behind each shot. Also pretty good as a blunt force object in a pinch, sturdy as hell.

They are, and even what we'd rather keep under wraps causes something to go on. There's also the fact that other people can waltz right in to your dreams on top of emotional dream magic is bullshit.

Huh. Sounds pretty useful. I like the 'blunt force' part.

[Guns are... for other people.]

Yeah, the dream thing has me kind of on edge. That shit is private.
There's gotta be some way to lock them down, right?

The rockets don't hurt, either. Built strong I can use it as a club, just the way I like it.

[He will basically use anything he can pick up as a weapon. Including children's toys that may or may not be smoldering.]

Agree with you there.
If there is I haven't found it yet- other than the possibility of blackout drinking. Not the healthiest way to deal with it, of course.
Dreamless sleep.

[Damn, this guy really does speak her language.]

Fuck, I'd give it a shot.
Usually have trouble drinking enough to get that messed up, but it might be different here.
For one, the good shit is probably easier to come by.

[Perks of being trapped in a dream world!]

Usually have trouble myself, reason I picked up the hobby of making it.

[Moonshine in a dream world was something, kicked harder than wat he'd been making in the story world.]

Can offer you a shot at it, or help find a decent place to but something good here. Shops are slowly opening after all.

[He just keeps getting cooler.]

Shit, you make your own? Smart.
Think you'll keep it up even as more places open?
Gotta be something to be said for making that shit just the way you like it.

Think I will, since it gives me one constant in this mess. Already know I can make it damn strong, too.
Better than trying to shop for something that works, but still might pop in to any bar that opens just to see what type it draws.

[Never hurts to have a bar you can sit at the end of the counter or some corner and just... listen. Good way to overhear information.]

If you want to try out some of what I've made, can name an area to meet up. Got jar fulls.

I've heard people talk about bar atmosphere before.
I'm sure someone will open one before too long. Seems like that's one of the few things that's a goddamn constant between worlds.

[Everyone likes to drown their sorrows from time to time. She hasn't spent a whole lot of time in bars due to the fact that it would mean heading into town when she'd rather not, but hell, she likes what they serve.]

Sign me up, love to see if it lives up to the hype.
It takes a lot to knock me down.

Last place I was in I worked in one since it served food, too. Good way to keep an eye out for a change for better or worse.

At least it can be a welcoming constant for some folks.

[He had his own reasons for staying out of populated areas- even if he came in once most were asleep, just to see if anything decided to creep in the dark.]

When you want to give it a try, I can tell you the where. I'm always around somewhere and can make myself easier to find.
Got a new batch jarred, too.

Information always moves through those kinds of places.
That's why all the best jobs come from sniffing around bars, or so I hear.

[Nier always did the actual bloodhound part of hunting for work.]

Sure thing. Hell, if it's fresh, how's now?

Jobs, or tracking down someone you're after.
Bar's a good place to find people that just can't seem to keep their mouths shut, after all.

[One way to track down a target, too.]

Now can work. Just head west of the residential district, take a right off the path and there's a clearing you'll get to. I'll be there.

Need to take a break myself anyway.

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.]

[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?

[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.]

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.

Something we have in common, sounds like.

[Getting drunk is always a task for her, and while for some time, she'd thought it was because what passed for alcohol in their world was just no good, spending time with others had given her something to compare her own high alcohol tolerance to.

Pain in the ass.

She watches him out of the corner of her eye as he pulls his mask and visor off, subtly appraising him as she takes another drink from the jar he'd offered her. He's older than she'd initially thought, but not much.]

Sure, I'll take 'em off your hands. Nice of you.

[She's not used to 'nice,' but she's getting better about not always second-guessing it. She pauses, then shrugs before taking another long sip.]

So what's the mask for?

All the more reason to share something that cuts through whatever bullshit.

[Whatever that bullshit may be, and he was fine leaving it at 'bullshit'. Everyone would have their stories, and knowing him it was best to let it be shared -if it ever was- on the person's own time. Some weren't inclined, after all.

76 leaned then, pulling the bag from it's place where he was sitting to put it more within reach. Other jars filled with the same shimmering liquid, even if not all the same color.]

Can take what I've got, and get in touch whenever you want more.

[He could drink it all himself, sure- but that could be an even worse level of the habit he already had. Couldn't let himself indulge too deep.]

Hides who I am- more useful where I'm from, and the visor highlights enemies I might otherwise not see.

['Bullshit' is a good term for it. Nice and vague, but gets the point across well enough. She's good with that.

One eyebrow quirks forward as she watches him over the rim of the jar she's drinking from, looking over the collection of jars he's brought along with him. He's basically a pro at this, seems like.]

Shit. Don't have to ask me twice.

[Hell, she's all for getting free stuff, especially if it's all going to have this kind of kick to it.]

... thanks.

[In case she hasn't said it yet. She's lost track— it's not a word she utters often, anyway.]

So's it a secret identity kinda thing, or are you used to getting kind of a... [She pauses a moment, frowning as she swallows a little more moonshine and makes a vague gesture with one hand.] You know. Shitty reception from people, for whatever reason.

[She can definitely identify with that second option.]

[His head tipped in a little sort of 'cheers to that' motion. May as well share it if it cut through, no questions asked.

Sometimes? Sometimes you just really needed a drink, for whatever reason. That was something he knew all too well these days. If he could supply that to those that had as hard, or even harder, time with it than him? More the fucking merrier.]

Welcome.

[His nose wrinkled for a moment, before he was taking a larger swig from the jar in his own hand.] Bit of both. I made for a big and easy target, even though I wasn't the real source of their issues.

Better off believing I'm dead so I can take care of the actual problem. [Even if it would take him a while-] One punk at a time, if need be.

[Revenge wasn't a bad path to take in getting his answers, kept him going.]

Makes sense.

[It makes her wonder, how much better would things have been back home if people thought she was dead? Hell, a lot of folks would probably celebrate, if they cared at all, but she doesn't think his situation is the same. People just didn't like her, trust her— if they were after him, that was different.

She takes another long, thoughtful drink before asking:]

So. What'd you do to piss people off so bad?

[No harm in asking. He can always refuse to answer, right?]

Pissed off a lot of political figures to the point they feared the amount of power I could have.

[There was something equal parts bitter and amused in it now. It was funny in away, because it went to show that-] They were afraid the people were starting to see how useless they were, how power hungry. So I made an easy target for their fear mongering, to keep their egos from further bruising.

[A lot of-]

Never liked the political bullshit getting mixed in with keeping people safe and alive, even if I had to play along. [Made himself that to try and keep any of it from hitting others. Boy did that fail.] They were calling for my head on a silver platter near the end.

Almost got it. Now the bastards make a show of mourning, as if they didn't try to destroy me in every way possible. Of what I worked for, and the other people they took down trying to get to me. [They'd get theirs, one way or another.]

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please be her gruff new dad

he's definitely got spots open okay

he likes to fight things and doesn't take shit, she's in

sometimes all it takes for some bonding

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