Zimla - What Dreams Shall Come - RPLOG
Participants
Date
13/9/479
Log
The fog is so thick in the streets that it is hard even to see a hand in front of your face. Not to say that it is dark, it is just a strange kind of opaque brightness. Voices echo strangely in the mist and odd lights bob through the murk. It is a day that any sane being would stay indoors. But for some, the strangeness beckons. . .
Arie walks calmly through the streets. She wasn't about to let some magicians prank or strange weather dissuade her from her business. She moved just slowly enough that she could be certain she wouldn't trip over something, or bang into a wall she hadn't yet seen, but still exuded her standard confidence and grace. She stopped for a moment, reaching her foot out to where she thought there should be a post, sighing softly. Was she honestly lost in the middle of town? She turned on her heel to head towards the nearest sign of light.
Only having been in the city for a few weeks at most, Galve didn't know that the fog was uncommon. He suspected something was amiss with the strange lights and the voices, but he was unperturbed overall. The fog was thick though, and he had already almost tripped on a loose tile once, so he was bring extra cautious of his footing as he tried to locate even another temporary prisoner of the mysterious fog, be them friend or foe
Peter keeps his nose scrunched, eyes squinted suspiciously at the mysterious fog draped over the city. His hand is gripped tightly onto the hilt of his blade, ready to draw at a moments notice. Pangs of regret were in his mind - but someone could be stuck out in the fog, and he would be no good of a hero if he just let them stay out wandering! "Hellooo," he called out, in a sort of.. ghost impression., before returning to his normal drawl. "Anybody else stuck out here?"
Up ahead (No matter where a being might be in the mist) a bright light, like a lantern on a pole, bobs along slowly. "Well?" comes a voice, "Come along then, hurry or we'll miss it!"
Arie halted briefly, watching the bobbing light, turning her head to the right, her left ear flicking as she tried to recognize the voices. She shook her head lightly, finding herself curious regardless. There should still be guard nearby, after all. She could make a lot of noise. She walked steadily towards the light, still filled with confidence and grace, until she thought they were close enough to hear her clearly without need to speak up. "Miss what, if I may be so bold to ask?" she said, words silk off her tongue.
Wary of unknown voices from unseen beings, Galve still followed the lamp and voice because there wasn't much else he could do other than bumble around aimlessly in the mists until he wandered off the side of a bridge or into a well or something.
Peter grips his sword tight and hurries ahead toward the light, his feet awkwardly shuffling across the ground in an atttempt to avoid tripping whilst catching up to.. whatever that may be. Dangerous criminals, attacking in the thick of the fog? Lost children to be saved? Clearly, a knight was needed, and his armor clanked as he was drawn closer to the light.
If the voice answers, it is impossible to hear over a sudden cheer that fills the air! Suddenly the mist is gone and the three beings find themselves at the edge of a crowd in Saints' Square! Bright sunlight pours down from above onto the crowd of. . . skunks?
Indeed, the square is an ocean of black and white stripes and a small stage has been set up between the great statues of the Creators where a large skunk being in royal finery is waving to the people and trying to calm them so he can speak.
Something about the square seems. . . off. . . aside from its sudden appearance. Something FEELS strange too, though it is not immediately evident.
Arie squinted hard, raising her left hand to shield her eyes, pulling her shoulders in for a moment as she adjusted to the sudden light. She took stock of what was around her, exhaling slowly as her mind tried to absorb the sudden change in her surroundings. She didn't move yet, eyes just wandering slowly, cautious in comparison to the rest of her relaxed, but well composed body language, and waited for the skunk in his finery to speak. She narrowed her eyes slightly, mind filling with a sudden thought.
Blinking as his eyes adjusted themselves to the light, Galve was again confused by the sea of black and white milling in front of him. He recognized Saint's Square and the statues, but no beings other than skunks seemed to be around him. He looked in his immediate vicinity and noticed the two on either side of him. Keeping his voice down, he mustered up enough courage to ask the armored skunk 'Umm... what's going on?' in a hushed voice, barely loud enough to be heard.
Peter jolted upright, pulling his blade partially out before realizing that there is no danger readily apparent, letting it settle back ino it's sheath as his eyes scan over the crowd of.. skunks. And.. no mist? "Is.. is this some kinda.. skunk festival'r somethin'?" he murmurs, head swivelling around to take in the sights of the suddenly lit square. He tilts his head down to the fluffy skunk beside him, scratching his chin. "I dunno. Guess he's gonna tell us!"
"My people!" calls the well dressed skunk on the stage, "My brothers and sisters! I welcome you to our annual celebration of the founding of Mephiton!" The crowd erupts once more into loud cheers. "It has been 479 years since our great Creators, in their wisdom sent us here to our own world of Mephestia and 400 years since the founding of our great city!" More cheering, ensues. When it finally dies down a bit, the leader of this demonstration raises his hands again for quiet. "Now, let us all take a moment and thank the Creators for making us in their image and giving us this peaceful world!"
That's when it finally hits home. The statues of the Creators are all different! Each of them, instead of having the distinctive strange appearance of Creators, bears the head of a skunk! What is going on here?
Arie shook her head, smiling softly. Her initial thought was so far off she felt a fool for even considering it. Something was definitely strange about this though. She took a deep, but quiet breath before tilting her foot to the side slightly, and falling towards the fluffier skunk, letting out a pained gasp and grabbing his should to catch her fall. She bent the leg towards that sunk in mock pain, inhaling sharply through her teeth. She filled her voice with as much mock pain as she could too, "S-sorry." she spit out, biting back whatever she was about to say next. "I think it's a sprain."
Now the weirdness had began to set in. Galve realized that something was amiss when he saw the heads of the statues, the same statues he'd been walking past for several weeks on his way to his priestly training. Putting a hand to his chin and rubbing thoughtfully, he was suprised when the female skunk next to him suddenly tripped and fell on him. Doing his best to catch the female mephit, he was forced to bump into the armored skunk next to him. "It's fine. A sprain?" He asked, concerned. He only had his basic medical supplies with him, in a pouch on his belt.
Peter watches the nobleskunk in confusion, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the obviously defaced statues of the creators. He is distracted by suddenly being bumped by the fluffy skunk, the armored boy leaning over to see the issue. "Let me know if ya need help walkin'," the boy offers, before looking back up toward the statue. Not wanting to intrude on the obviously important ceremony, Peter raises his hand, interested in asking a lot of questions.
There is a moment of silence. Well as close to silent as a crowd can be, then the well dressed skunk turns to address the people once more. "It was the Creators' wisdom in making us all the same that has made our lasting peace possible," he declaims, certainly not noticing a hand at the back of the crowd, "And as your king I will uphold that peace! Let the festival begin!" There is another loud cheer and a scattering of fireworks erupt from behind the stage as the "King" is led away by a few skunks in fine armor and some kind of black and white livery. Flags and penants in differing patterns of black and white are also scattered around the square.
"What do you think?" comes a deep, but feminine voice from behind the confused trio. Another skunk, this one colored a deep, deep purple that is almost, but not quite black steps forward with a small smile.
Arie shakes her head at the armoured skunks offer, slowly pushing herself back into a standing posture, doing her best to keep weight off her fake injury. "I think I'll manage," she said, pushing most of the mock pain out of her voice, "But thank you for the offer." she added, giving herself another short inhale through her teeth. Her eyes held a deep cynism in what was going on, it certainly couldn't be real, could it? As she heard the voice she turned her head, looking back as best she could without actually turning on her 'injured' foot. She recomposed herself, speaking with an air of authority, "What do I think of?" she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "You do not doubt the creators decision, do you?" she said, resisting the tendency to add the creatures species at the end of her sentence. That may be suspicious here, after all.
Seeing the lack of real pain or injury on the female skunk, Galve realized she must have been faking it for one reason or another. Maybe. Maybe she was just well constituted enough to ignore the pain. Turning to the midnight-purple skunk, he opened his mouth as if to say something, then thought better of it and closed it. Whatever was going on here was clearly not what was actually happening, some kind of mind trick. But he didn't want to break the illusion too quickly, lest he incur the wrath of the scene's creator who most likely was standing before them.
Peter disappointedly puts his hand down, taking a look at his palm before etting his hands fall down by his sides again. "Okay, if yer sure," he says aside to the female skunk, before turning on his heel to greet the new purplish skunk with a bow. "Uhhh.. I think that there's probably some kinda mistake," he says, shaking his head. At this point, running off the assumption that he fell asleep and is now walking around in a bad dream. "I don't think.. I'm meant to be invited to this festival."
"Hmm?" The purple skunk responds to Arie, "No, no, I mean the Good King. He is certainly an enthusiastic one. Not so regal as the real one, of course, but nice." She turns a dazzling smile on Peter. "Don't be silly, Peter," she says, "All the skunks of Mephiton are welcome at the Founding Festival!"
It finally sinks in. Little hints and oddities suddenly make sense as the trio finally notices that they, like everyone else here, are skunks!
Arie set her jaw slightly, moving with almost a limp as she turned herself around, facing the new, purple eyed skunk. She evidently knew exactly what was going on, and proved it was in fact an illusion. She didn't think Peter had said his name either, unless this supposed skunk had a similar habit to herself. She let out an exasperated breath, "Alright, get on with it." she said softly.
As his suspicions were confirmed by the purple skunk's words, Galve took stock of the situation. He was a skunk, albeit a overly fluffy one, and every little detail seemed to fit into place to create the seamless illusion which had been layered over their reality. He even tested this by shifting his 'paw' a little to discover that the sound of hard keratin on paving stones was still audible beneath the muffled paw-shuffle that was produced. "Well it certainly seems like quite the affair... What's your hand in this?" He asked the purple skunk, shifting a little and feeling the illusory weight of his tail hanging behind him.
Peter takes another look at his hand and squints, closing and opening it. "That's.." he mumbles, shaking his head. The armored skunk shuffles in place, putting a hand on the hilt of his sword, while the other twitches slightly. "Spirits, I don't feel so good," he whimpered, looking suspiciously at the other gathered skunks. "And how come you know me? I don't.. I don't recognize you."
"Get on with what, Arie, dear?" the purple skunk asks, "I thought you were enjoying the festival?" She stops at a little booth covered in ribbons and other decorations and returns with three little cakes on sticks. They look like white cake dipped in chocolate sauce on either side, leaving a white stripe down the middle. "Stripe cake dears?" she offers, "Proceeds go toward the Widetail orphanage, you know. The Highlady is very good with her confectionaries."
Glave will no doubt be more than a little surprised to find that he does NOT, in fact, hear or feel the familiar sensations of his hooves. And the weight of that fluffy tail does not seem like an illusion either!
"I know all of my dreamers," the purple skunk says calmly, "Now, why don't you all enjoy the festival? Relax. You are skunks in Mephiton, the jewel of the peaceful world of Mephistia. Life is good here."
Arie was visibly annoyed that the woman knew her name while she didn't know theirs. She comtinued to speak calmly, no longer caring about he act and splitting her weight between both feet evenly. "My apologies, when I fell on you I was attempting to discern an illusion. Unfortunately the spell had more depth than I had expected." she said, matter of a factedly. As she was offered stripe cakes she just watched the woman, voice flat. "Oh do they." she said, doubting how much the orphanage /really/ existed in this.. whatever this was. She crossed her arms, mulling over the situation.
Dreamers? Ah, that would explain it. They were trapped in some kind of lucid dream... Galve wondered of the connotations of this new revelation. "Umm... Sure, I'll have one." He asked, pawing around his belt for his crown purse. Surely having some food and a good time wouldn't hurt.
Peter seems to calm down at the response from the purple skunk, scratching his head at the offer of cake before deciding to make the dream a good one by grabbing a stick and stuffing his fat chipskunk cheeks full of stripe cake. "Thanky," he mumbles, taking on a more passive attitude to the whole situation. "How come just skunks, though? I don't know if just skunks is a good idea.." he ponders aloud, curiious about the nature of their purple-coated tour guide. It seems to dawn on hmi that he isn't the only dreamer in this dream, so he dabs away some crumbs from his mouth with his shirtsleeve, swallowing with a loud gulp. "I'm Peter, also," he says, introducing himself to his companions.
The purple mephit only smiles at Arie and passes the cakes to the others. "No need for coin," she says, "It is my treat." She keeps the third cake-onna-stick for herself since Arie does not seem to want it.
The cakes themselves are moist and sweet, apparently soaked in some kind of sugary cream before they are covered in chocolate. It is a wonder that the population of Mephiton is not considerably fatter if this is a common treat. Looking around, maybe they are.
"I don't know," the purple skunk answers Peter, "It is not my dream, I just happen to like it. Here, this world was populated by only one kind of being and they believe themselves to be made in the image of their creators. There are no clans, and there have been no wars in living memory. The city of Mephiton is the first among the great cities of this world and all skunks live in peace and harmony. I believe that it has lead to a much better food industry." She nibbles at her own cake and smiles a little. "A fine dream," she continues, "Though we could try another if this one is not to your liking?"
There is a strange ripple in the air, like a distant heat haze and another skunk staggers out, this one a hefty, powerfully built female in full armor. Lucasiel had been trying to find her way through the mists and suddenly finds herself in Saints' Square, surrounded by skunks!
Arie raised her eyebrow at the mention of it not being her dream. "So you don't know who creates this place, if anyone?" she asked, still not particularly happy. "The dream seems a little too optimistic for my liking. You may see it as a break from the real world, but I view it as retreating." she said, her fingers wriggling as she finally seemed to care about her form being different. She grimaced a little, as Peter introduced himself, responding with only her last name. "Fahldar."
The sugary treat was quite delectable, and Galve did his best to eat it without making a huge mess. "It certainly seems nice enough.... If just a little jarring at first." He says, noticing the entry of the new skunk, most likely another being who'd walked right into the same situation they were currently in. Pausing from his dessert, he brushed the crumbs from his tunic and introduced himself. "Galve. Pleasure to meet you all."
Peter lifts a hand in greeting to the new arrival, giving a nod of his head in the direction of his companions as they share their introductions, before his attention lies on the purple one once again. "No clans? But.." he starts, folding his arms and shaking his head. "Well, tell you what, I don't know if I like it one bit," he says. He hesitates a moment before continuing, almost afraid to be asking, "What other dreams are there? And, uh.. how do I get home?"
Lucasiel glances around as she stumbles through the fog, blinking. Her helmet is tucked under her arm, and she largely seems to have just come in after a day of work. Whatever work requires that much armour. "Weird hour for a party," she mumbles, noting all the skunks. Must be some kind of black-back function. Something isn't quite right though. Her cape never pressed so much on her tail before. The sensation is just off enough to prompt her to look over her shoulder, only to note the rather large, bushy tail behind her. "No. Nuh uh." She gives it a little bat with her hand. It's hers alright. "Not a chance-" She trails off at the introduction, looking towards the voice. "Dreams? That would mean... Oh for the love of..." She places her gauntlet over her face and groans. Just what she needed to walk into.
"There are as many dreams as there are dreamers," the purple skunk says and her eyes flash with momentary fire at Arie's scorn, "I know every dreamer, mortal," she says, her voice suddenly containing strange echoes and her fluffy fur blowing in a breeze that does not seem to touch anyone else before she settles down again, smiling once more. "Perhaps we should sample another dream?" she offers, "Before I send you on your way. Perhaps you will learn a thing or two about yourselves. Since this one does not seem to be to your liking." She turns a dazzling smile at the new arrival. "Welcome, Lucasiel," she says, "We were just talking about taking a little jaunt. Care to join us?"
Arie perhaps dangerously, did not seem to take to the purple skunks threat. Despite that, she was at least intelligent enough to not start a fight with what seemed to be a greater being. She just took a deep breath, restraining herself. "Mayhaps we will." she said, her voice a little softer but still naturally cynical. "Lucasiel." she added softly, looking towards the new skunk. "Oh, hello Blake." she said, the corner of her lip turning up into a grin as she recalled the woman. She had protected her in a fight not more than a day ago. She wrapped one arm around her ribs, her other elbow resting on her hand and brushing through the fur on her cheek.
"S'pose so," Peter said, in agreement with the purple one's offer. The boy looks over Lucasiel before returning to vacantly staring ahead, rolling his shoulders with a deep sigh. He furrowsh is brow and looks to Arie in confusion as she uses diferent names for their new companion, passing it off as an effect of the dreamlike state they are in.
Galve looked equally confused at the different names, but dismissed it. This 'Faldhar' seemed a bit... eccentric to him. Just the way she conducted herself was odd, not in a bad way though. "I'm for it. Surely there won't be an dangerous dreams.... right?" Galve said, a little concerned at what might lie ahead.
"Blake? I am Lucasiel Longtail," The panther-turned skunk says, frowing softly as she makes her way closer. "But hello again all the same. A jaunt... Well. I suppose. But only if it does not keep me from the waking world overlong. I do have to be getting home, lest Marianne start to worry. But I know how strangely time passes in such things, so I will go with you," she concludes.
"Dangerous?" the purple skunk turns to look at Galve, her eyes suddenly glowing, "All dreams are dangerous, little Galve."
The world starts to ripple and mist pours into the square, hiding the celebrating skunks. The world is reduced to silvery fog for a few moments, then dissappates as quickly as it came, revealing a raised, desert gazebo draped in gauzy hangings. It looks like a romanticized version of a desert dwelling from a play. Huge, muscular male beings of many species, but all of massive build stand around the dream boudoir, all wearing scanty leather uniforms. In the middle of the gazebo, a scrawny mouse being lies on a pile of pillows while brawny beings feed him grapes.
"Slaves!" he squeaks, "Bring me my bath!"
The travelers find themselves changed to fit the dream. The purple skunk has become an enormous, brawny tapir with wavy purple hair. He grins and waves at a brass bathtub, full of what seems to be milk. "Get to it, slaves," he says.
"Yes yes, I know your name Blake." Arie said, the curl of her lips turning sly. The expression was wiped from her face very quickly as the dream rippled, fog transitioning them into the next scene. She didn't think of it as much more than a parlour trick initially. She fell into focus again, rapidly acquainting herself with her new bearings her jaw setting immediately as she realized what the new dream was. She crossed both of her arms, pushing her hip towards the left and almost glaring at the newly shifted tapir. Her voice was dead serious, without an ounce of fear as she spoke. "This is not. Funny."
Galve is taken aback by the sudden shift in scenery, and then look at the mouse and the muscular beings. The normally well-mannered being that was Galve was now glowering at his compatriots for their distaste in their previous setting, but he moved to haul the tub with lack of complaint, being no stranger to work himself. "I'd do as he says, we don't have a lot of choice here..." He said, his voice low and tinged with distaste for the pompous Faldhar who seemed to be refusing to pull her weight.
Peter seems to be adjusting easily to his new surroundings and gets straight to his task without any protest, grabbing onto the edge of the bath tub and groaning as he draaags it in the direction of the mouse, intent on bringing the man his bath. "Don't you get smelly if you pour milk all over yourself?" the boy - now a rather muscular man - asks, clearly coming from some place of experience.
Lucasiel appraises Arie for a moment, as if trying to discern their angle before taking in the new setting. She voiced no protest, but nor did she wander off to do as bidden. It seemed the other two were taking to it. She remained impassive outwardly, but in truth she was rather enjoying the view. Physiology changed or not, she was still her, and the rooms occupants were enough of a delight.
"Not in this dream," the muscular tapir says in answer to Peter, helping to carry the heavy basin, winking at the two women turned muscular men. "There is a power in dreams," he says, "A truth in dreams about our selves." The lounging little mouse does not seem to notice the conversation going on among his burly slaves. He only holds out his arms to them, inviting them to bathe him. "What truth do you see in little Matthias's dream?" the tapir asks.
Arie thought on that comment, making no movement towards the little mouse, eyes locked on whatever this being that controlled the dream was. She wasn't particularly happy about the philosophical question posed towards her, certain that she knew well enough who she was. "You want me to learn about myself by watching a mouse order around his butch slaves?" she said, biting back some of her tone, still not understand quite what she was dealing with. "Enlighten me then." she said more softly. It would be a lie if she claimed she wasn't curious at all.
"That he wants to be waited on hand and foot by a bunch of masculine beings? Some kind of fantasy about things he doesn't have?" Galve says, making a stab in the dark as to the nature of this.... bizzare scenario.
Peter chuckles and leans down to grab the mouse and promptly dunk him into the tub. "Uh.. I think the truth is he probably thinks quite highly of himself," the transformed chipmunk ventures, rubbing some of the milk into his scalp vigorously. He is not a great slave. "I want a bunch of big buff guys to wait on me, but the miitia is practically the opposite!" he huffs.
Lucasiel tears 'her' eyes away from a masculine feline to look towards the tapir, raising a brow. "Without knowing his age, I could not say. I think it is... Perhaps a manifesting expression that results from a lack of a father figure in their life, perhaps? I could not say."
The purple tapir laughs, helping to lift the scrawny mouse into the milk bath and gently washing him. "I do not offer enlightenment," he says, "That is for you to discover. I can only show you what you need to see." He reaches out to lay a hand on Peter's arm, gentling his scrubbing. "Matthias has a father. One who beats him every night to toughen him up." He strokes the mouse's hair and leads the others away a short distance, leaving the mouse to luxuriate in his imaginary bath. "He is not even a mouse in his waking life," the tapir says, "Shall we see another dream?"
Arie's eyes visibly darkened as the being spoke of Matthias's father, setting her jaw and looking towards her feet. She took a short breath, huffing as she ended the sudden change in her composure, shaking off whatever it was that caused it. She looked more curiously at the being, eyes bordering on interrogative. "Do you not feel intrusive, passing through the minds of people as though they're plays?" she said, setting her shoulders squarely.
Looking over his overly-masculine form, Galve shrugged at the tapir. "I'm along for the ride I guess, as my compatriots will ultimately decide what we do." Galve said, looking over his self-proclaimed 'compatriots'.
Peter is already rubbing more gently once he hears about Matthias' father, muttering a little apology to the mouse as he smooths out the ruffled fur. He continues his work with a solemn frown, looking down at himself before shaking his head and returning his focus back to the purple tapir. "Sure," he says, with a shrug.
"I see." Lucasiel closes her eyes, humming. "Interesting. But yes, I am ready to see what else you have in store. This type of setting is not quite to my liking, I am afraid. As lovely as the view is."
The tapir gives Lucasiel a wink and the scene boils away into fog. While everything else is obscured by the unnatural mist, the tapir stays visible somehow, his shape changing and becoming more feminine. "One more dream, I think," he- now she says, "But which dream?"
Arie was a little agitated as she was ignored by whatever it was, but opted not to speak out against it. She felt uncomfortable now that she realized she was actually wandering around in other peoples dreams, things that she personally would safeguard, but she was likely powerless to stop it. For the time being she just waited in silence.
Galve briefly contemplated asking something quite crazy, but decided against it. "I..... don't have any good suggestions..." He said, still dwelling on the thought.
Peter wobbles unsteadily as the world dissolves again. "I.. I dunno," he says to the tapir's question, watching with interest to see where they are taken next.
Lucasiel folds her arms, tail flicking behind her. "I do not know. There are many dreams I would love to see. But I am not the one at the helm. It is entirely up to you to decide where we go, is it not? So what do YOU want us to see?"
"Interesting," the tapir says, looking at Galve, "Yes, yes, very interesting. I think that we can arrange that."
The fog boils away once again, only this time the scene is even darker and more opaque than the fog was. It is silent here. A torch burns a short distance away, illuminating a lone figure in the dark.
Arie closed her eyes while the images around them returned, vastly different than before. When she opened them she looked towards Galve, almost apologetically. "Did you intend to share, or would you like me to ignore our current situation?" she said softly. She wouldn't share her own mind, she certainly wasn't about to infringe on someone elses.
"I.... I... I wasnt... I d-didn't...." Galve stutters, shutting up as the world around them recollected. Gazing upon the lone figure, Galve contemplated his choice and what a bad decision this was.
Peter peers into the dark, walking toward the light to get a look at the figure. He seems too confused to think of anything to say, groping out in the dark to make sure he isn't alone before hearing Arie speak. "We gotta go home, I think," he murmurs, the armored fellow shuffling around in his boots.
Lucasiel looks towards Galve, watching for a moment before her attention shifts to the lone figure. "And what's all this, then? It does not seem like a pleasant... Memory? Dream? Whatever it may be. But I am curious."
"Yes," comes the low, female voice of the tapir, "Yes, we must go home soon. But it is good that you see this dream." The figure in the torchlight is very recognizeable. It is the Good King himself! The large, powerful hippo stands alone, holding his torch in one hand and a. . . feather duster? in the other. He stands like a weathered statue, alone in the expansive darkness. If he can see or hear the party, he gives no indication.
Arie almost let out a sigh of relief, at least happy that Galve didn't have to stand by while others around him watched into his own mind. She made no motion to move closer to the now known King, but she didn't avert her gaze anymore. Though the implication here was strong. If this truly was the Kings own mind.. She watched in silence, slowly becoming more uncomfortable.
The implications of the scene before him slowly set in. His mouth opens and closes several times but the words piled in his throat like a clogged drain and none came out.
Galve simply stopped and stared, his hands at his sides. "... yes.... let's go...." He said, taken aback
Peter doesn't seem to understand what's happening before him, simply waiting for the next change of scenery to occur.
"The King... Interesting..." Lucasiel turns a look towards Galve once more, brow furrowing. She wanted to see what this was about. A step forward, tail twitching. It wasn't just about curiosity anymore. It was turning into business. "What is this dream about?"
In the darkness, the Tapir is like a violet beacon, though her light does not illuminate anything in the darkness. The king stands still in the dark. He would almost seem to be a statue aside from his slow breathing and the occasional twitch of an eye or slight squeeze on the handle of the feather duster he holds. "It is a heavy burden," she says, "To be a leader. Especially in times like these." There is a shifting in the darkness, like something scraping against stone and the king whirls, torch held high and eyes wide.
"It's more than the burden of leading. It's fear." Arie said softly. "If you make a mistake, somebody might try to kill you. If you don't make /any/ mistakes, and you manage to keep your people happy, someone /will/ try to kill you." Her voice was serious, but very light. She shook her head lightly, once again looking towards the entity as opposed to what she was showing, still not understanding why they did this, or why it picked her. If it even did choose.
Galve continued to be speechless, gaze fixed. He'd always pondered the implications of royalty, but he never thought it would be like this.
"Yes, well. No one ever said it was easy. But someone has to do it," Lucasiel says before going still. The scrape of stone and the King's reaction is enough. It might be a dream, and Lucasiel knows it isn't real, but trained reactions are not so easily dismissed with logic. She's quick to dash forward towards the King's side to defend against any would-be assailants.
Nothing attacks, there are only constant threats of attack from somewhere in the darkness.
"That is enough," the tapir says gently, and the space fills once more with fog, "Remember this. Remember the dreams of your king and the lessons of Zimla." After a few moments, the fog starts to thin, and a light rain starts to fall. Soon, all that is left of the experience are memories and a gathering of bewildered beings in the street outside the Freeswords' guild.
Arie just leaned against the nearest wall upon the visions ending, her mind dancing over everything that had just happened. Frankly she was more interested in what the being was than whatever messages it was sharing with the group. She shrugged it off for the time being, tucking the memory away for later and heading straight to the Academy. If any of the others were nearby and attempted to get her attention, she'd idly wave over her shoulder.
Galve continued to look aghast until he snapped out of it, visibly shaking himself. Zimila.... That name would stick for a while. Galve looked at the assembled beings and then quietly made his exit.
Lucasiel inhales softly and shakes her head. It was nothing she did not know. She was dedicated to fighting those dangers in the dark, after all. It was her job. And tonight was just any other night for her. Except her dreams were usually far more pleasant. Another rub to her face and a brief wave and she sets off, herself.
