The dreams he possesses at first are formless and dark, nothing out of the ordinary. Dreams forming like clouds.
But after some time, the nightmares gather. It is at this point a scar on his psyche- and one that always brings fresh terror. To those who who are not familiar with dreams, it appears to be bits and pieces.
Whispers- bricked up walls- someone he dearly loves terrified and hurt- a bloody hammer- arms grabbing him- the buzz of insects- he needs to find his brother- the axe, he needed the axe to-
In the real world, his body was tossing and turning, the terror obvious and the sounds he made were terrified moans, growing louder and louder. He would start screaming soon, from the way his chest was starting to heave.
Re: backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
That's interesting. It catches his attention like a flicker of motion enticing a cat. He follows it, and just - nudges.
There's the axe. Just the one he was looking for, right within reach. The panic of the nightmare wants to place it forever out of reach, but Kahl holds it there. He wants to see what Oscar needs it for.
The axe. He can do it this time. Arthur doesn't have to do it. He can do it.
He will do it. It is the price for his curiosity, for touching something he couldn't.
He can feel the creature in his skin again, but he finds a flat surface- Arthur is screaming, saying no but there no time and- Oscar raises the axe to cut off his arm-
Before, it was the axe he couldn't find, always out of reach. Now, Kahl twists around the natural rhythms of the dreamscape, like a martial artist redirecting momentum. Arthur can't quite get here, will never quite get here.
He lays down delicate, intangible bindings like threads of a spiderweb; he doesn't want Oscar to wake from the shock. But he also doesn't want to step in. He wants to see if Oscar will really go through with it.
It won't hurt, the same way water in dreams can't actually drown you. Adrenaline, yes, but Kahl winds the spring for the shock and strangeness to transmute into a breaking point of immense relief, instead of some new horror intervening to explain away the discrepancy. If -
Oscar's body was arching and he was screaming- not bellows, but screams in his sleep.
In the dream it was different. He was certain. He was sure.
It went down. The axe went up, after Oscar wiggled a little to get it unstuck. And down. Another wiggle as he forced it out, sweat and blood pooling on the table.
Down.
It was off, and Oscar was on his knees, shaking, relieved. Off. It was Off, and now Arthur didn't have to blame himself.
He did it this time.
He paid the price.
And he wondered, as he started to slide to the floor, if this time he would die.
He sinks down, and down; nothing hurts, but everything feels so light and so heavy at the same time.
Kahl pulls on an image of death from a long-ago port. The dream shifts, and Oscar becomes aware of his surroundings anew. Everything is numb and cool, suffused with pale grey light. Oscar is lying in a strange, shallow river, only a few inches deep, gently flowing around him. Somewhere far away, hidden by mists, is faster-rushing water, and the sound of bells.
He's still, because he's fetched up against some kind of obstacle, a warm, soft bulk on the downstream side. A dozing tiger.
It's so strange. At first he thought he was freed, bleeding to death-
But he hears bells. He's not sure of they are supposed to be church bells, or somewhere in the world Florian is now living in.
But he doesn't feel cold in the river. The bulk is there and it is...a tiger.
Uncertain what to do, Oscar grows still. It's not the tiger's fault for finding a resting place. In fact- it saved him from going further downstream in his...sleep? Death? He's very confused, and makes to touch his arm to see if it was still there.
It is the only sign of life here. Rising out of the dark grey water, in the diffuse grey light, the tiger is a gash of color. It turns its head to regard Oscar, and its green eyes almost seem to glow.
"Hello, little shade," the tiger murmurs, in a voice that sounds strangely young for such a large, vivid creature. Not a child's voice, but not quite full grown, either.
Whether the hand is there or not, Kahl leaves to Oscar's hindbrain expectations. Given a strange liminal space of Death, does he think his ghost should have it back, under his own control? Then he has it.
"You haven't passed the first gate, yet. If you want to go back, you've only got to walk."
If he can bring himself to get up, and to walk.
Easier, here, than in the true river, whose cold waters leached away at the ghosts within them. This is still Oscar's dream. If he believes in his own conviction, then that will be enough.
Once he starts walking, Kahl gets to his own feet, shakes himself like a dog, then walks through the shallow water at Oscar's side. They can't see far in the mist - and the First Precinct in the dream can be as large as it needs to be for this conversation - but by moving upstream against the current, they can know the direction.
Oscar paused- that was still a giant tiger, whether he was dead or not- but went back to walking with the tiger joining him.
"We're trying to find an answer to a problem. There's a...being who has been trapped in our world for a time. We've found, at least, the possible person who brought them here. We're on their property now."
His left hand flexed. "But it's far more dangerous then expected. I shouldn't have touched the stove."
It's weird that he has a tiger for a psychopomp. He has no idea if this one is going to eat him or not.
"It turns out that the house and barn is infested with...creatures from another world. I read about them on the ride there. And...this thing, if it had been able to get up high enough would have taken me over. I wouldn't have been me anymore. I would have been...a puppet."
"Neither of us- or the three of us, I should say, as I didn't know John was there at the time- knew much about the situation. I had only just read about the...bugs."
He shivered, rubbing his arm. "And I didn't have time to tell Arthur their danger. It was all so fast."
Re: backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
But after some time, the nightmares gather. It is at this point a scar on his psyche- and one that always brings fresh terror. To those who who are not familiar with dreams, it appears to be bits and pieces.
Whispers- bricked up walls- someone he dearly loves terrified and hurt- a bloody hammer- arms grabbing him- the buzz of insects- he needs to find his brother- the axe, he needed the axe to-
In the real world, his body was tossing and turning, the terror obvious and the sounds he made were terrified moans, growing louder and louder. He would start screaming soon, from the way his chest was starting to heave.
Re: backdated to ~shortly~ after Vincent and Oscar were paired
There's the axe. Just the one he was looking for, right within reach. The panic of the nightmare wants to place it forever out of reach, but Kahl holds it there. He wants to see what Oscar needs it for.
Cw: self harm, amputation
He will do it. It is the price for his curiosity, for touching something he couldn't.
He can feel the creature in his skin again, but he finds a flat surface- Arthur is screaming, saying no but there no time and- Oscar raises the axe to cut off his arm-
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
He lays down delicate, intangible bindings like threads of a spiderweb; he doesn't want Oscar to wake from the shock. But he also doesn't want to step in. He wants to see if Oscar will really go through with it.
It won't hurt, the same way water in dreams can't actually drown you. Adrenaline, yes, but Kahl winds the spring for the shock and strangeness to transmute into a breaking point of immense relief, instead of some new horror intervening to explain away the discrepancy. If -
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
In the dream it was different. He was certain. He was sure.
It went down. The axe went up, after Oscar wiggled a little to get it unstuck. And down. Another wiggle as he forced it out, sweat and blood pooling on the table.
Down.
It was off, and Oscar was on his knees, shaking, relieved. Off. It was Off, and now Arthur didn't have to blame himself.
He did it this time.
He paid the price.
And he wondered, as he started to slide to the floor, if this time he would die.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
Kahl pulls on an image of death from a long-ago port. The dream shifts, and Oscar becomes aware of his surroundings anew. Everything is numb and cool, suffused with pale grey light. Oscar is lying in a strange, shallow river, only a few inches deep, gently flowing around him. Somewhere far away, hidden by mists, is faster-rushing water, and the sound of bells.
He's still, because he's fetched up against some kind of obstacle, a warm, soft bulk on the downstream side. A dozing tiger.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
But he hears bells. He's not sure of they are supposed to be church bells, or somewhere in the world Florian is now living in.
But he doesn't feel cold in the river. The bulk is there and it is...a tiger.
Uncertain what to do, Oscar grows still. It's not the tiger's fault for finding a resting place. In fact- it saved him from going further downstream in his...sleep? Death? He's very confused, and makes to touch his arm to see if it was still there.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"Hello, little shade," the tiger murmurs, in a voice that sounds strangely young for such a large, vivid creature. Not a child's voice, but not quite full grown, either.
Whether the hand is there or not, Kahl leaves to Oscar's hindbrain expectations. Given a strange liminal space of Death, does he think his ghost should have it back, under his own control? Then he has it.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
That...seemed about right.
"Good day to you, sir. Or ma'am." He didn't get up. He looked at his left hand- it made sense to his mind that in his death he would have both hands.
"You're being very kind to greet me, but I should get going. Thank you for keeping me company."
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"Have you decided which way you're going to go?"
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"Back, of course. Arthur is in danger, and I'm not leaving him alone."
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
If he can bring himself to get up, and to walk.
Easier, here, than in the true river, whose cold waters leached away at the ghosts within them. This is still Oscar's dream. If he believes in his own conviction, then that will be enough.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
He would go back. He would be making sure that everything would be finished. Even if it hurt.
He would live and fulfill his purpose.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
He didn't look back. "But that can't stop me from doing what I need to do. Death can come when I'm done keeping my friend alive."
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"What do you need to do?"
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"We're trying to find an answer to a problem. There's a...being who has been trapped in our world for a time. We've found, at least, the possible person who brought them here. We're on their property now."
His left hand flexed. "But it's far more dangerous then expected. I shouldn't have touched the stove."
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"What happened?" Kahl asked, quiet and measured, the patience of centuries.
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
"It turns out that the house and barn is infested with...creatures from another world. I read about them on the ride there. And...this thing, if it had been able to get up high enough would have taken me over. I wouldn't have been me anymore. I would have been...a puppet."
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
He shivered, rubbing his arm. "And I didn't have time to tell Arthur their danger. It was all so fast."
Re: Cw: self harm, amputation
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It's a real question. Has Arthur done something to earn it? Does Oscar have some other obligation to him?
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