jackabeelounge | The Dreaming Gods

The Dreaming Gods

Who: Jane Crocker (post Airlocked R1) and Dave Strider (post DRRP R3)
Where: Dream bubbles
When: Uh idk time is fuckin weird in space, but at the very least after the events of both rounds mentioned above.
Open/Closed: Closed
Rated: M for dead bodies and gore and all that shit
What: Murdergame crossover between two living canonmates

[Six hours to the Vegas Quadrant. Six hours to kill in a tiny spaceship with the people who have come to mean the entire world to Jane over the course of seven weeks - people she loves like family despite their faults, who love her in turn in their own ways, who are knit together through their pain and tears and stubborn wills to live, and one gleaming, distant goal that zips through the uncharted cosmos. And she is tired.

Granted, you could call what had been done to her an extended nap in and of itself, but being able to cry real tears and shout with real strength, and the thrilling rush of reclaiming her real belongings, holding Lightning's real knife in her hands and finding the weight just as comforting as it had been in the simulated space station...she was exhausted. And, well, they had plenty of blankets and horrid shipping shirts and clothes that weren't going to be worn. The others can have beds if they need them - Jane doesn't want one. The pile she makes in the office where she and Togami had found so many things is a private sanctuary, and despite the weird, lumpy accommodations she falls right asleep.

At first, her dreams - the first real dreams she's had in two months - are properly dreamlike and weird. Jake has rabbit ears and white eyes, bleeding profusely from a wound that cuts him straight through and makes her own scars ache as she chases him through a verdant wood and tumbles down an endless hole. Dirk pours tea for thirty-five empty settings, flickering and pixelating, sometimes missing his head, sometimes missing his shades to reveal white eyes. Roxy flits in and out of the corners of her vision, the pink of her own eyes brilliant and startling as a striped cat's tail brushes Jane's cheeks and she apologizes again and again, she didn't know, she had to go, John would fix everything Janey, they had to leave-

And then the dream shifts. Jane takes a step, and she's on the transporter of the space station, in the cafeteria. A chill overcomes her bones and blood until she realizes that no, she's not back there - they hadn't left Seth's horrid paintings up, after all. Chitanda's, Toby's, and the Griffin's mutilated portraits have been joined by the rest, for all the paintings, even the ones of the people she knows are alive, have been marked in some way. Xander's is slashed with red. The Doctor's is smeared with gold. Her own sports a tiara of cuts and blood left to drip down her face...she heaves a sob and falls to her knees.]

What is this...what is this...

[It has to be a dream. So why...why can't she wake up?]

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[She look familiar enough. No Life pajamas, no Ghost Beast shirt, just a weird set of silver footie pajamas and a grey shirt over it, bearing poppies and four words: I STAND WITH TEMERITY. And when Jane looks up...he looks familiar enough to her, too. Though, now everything has changed.]

...You're...y-you're Dirk's brother! The one who-

[The one who called her a "hot mom". Jane's cheeks flush brilliantly, and she pushes herself to her feet to timidly make her way over.]

What are you doing here...? I...I know we only talked once. How can you be in my...

[He straightens as she approaches, as if he has to stop himself from stepping back.]

Hell if I know. Is this a dream bubble? I haven't seen one of these since...

[He trails off, watching her, then looks around. After a moment, he turns around, picks up a paper napkin from the buffet bar, and steps over to offer it to her.]

Uh. Sorry. I'm kind of slow when I'm asleep. Do you--do you need a minute, or.

...A dream bubble...

[God. She hadn't talked about those with anyone since dear, sweet, precious Fefeta, and even then she had never actually met anyone like this in her dreams. Jane stares at the napkin for a moment before she takes it.] N-No, that's...thank you. I'll be okay. [She dabs her eyes.] I haven't seen...anyone from home in quite some time. I didn't think I ever would again.

[She breathes in, out, deeply like she had before to calm herself. Find that steady, grounded place that had emerged within and take purchase on it. It's okay. It's a dream. It's okay.]

What...what is all this other stuff? Did you bring it here? I...it looks nothing like the station...

I. Yeah.

[He looks around. The buffet bar. Potted plants. The structure of the dream is getting architecturally unsteady, but he has an idea if he goes out and turns the corner, he'll know exactly which way to find the dorms.]

Welcome to my nightmare, I guess. [Dave runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head, and gestures vaguely at the portraits.] Who are these jokers, though.

[His voice is gentler than the words themselves.]

[Are you sure they're there, Dave? Or will it be a hallway of rooms encased in cold, unfeeling chrome?]

Your nightmare...? Was...was this a place on your Earth?

[She looks back up to the paintings at his words, her eyes finding Chitanda's. She had been the first.]

...They were trapped with me. In. In space. Sort of.

My earth, no. An earth, yes.

[Dave follows her gaze, and then looks more closely at the paintings. Different kinds of people, different styles of dress...

And the slashes of paint, like gouged flesh.]

...Did it happen again?

[He looks at her, stomach sinking into his feet.]

Did they make you play their game?

["Again"-

The color runs out of Jane's face, and she meets Dave's eyes, her own hard and bright.]

Who? Who are they - were you in the first...with Jamie and Bolton and Max? T-They got you, too?!

[...It...doesn't sound like a typical despair game, but...clearly something had gone down before what went down with Jane. That's weird in and of itself.]

[That seems to just confuse Dave more than anything else.]

I don't know any of those names.

[Not even any of the previous classes... yeah, he doesn't think so.]

Does the name Junko Enoshima ring any bells?

You don't? But-

[But they were the only ones who came before.

Jane's own face furrows in confusion, and she shakes her head.] I've never heard of him. Or her. Or them. [A pause.] Wait, you...you went through something like this on Earth? Not in space?

Yeah. Post-apocalyptic Japan or something. We were in a hotel, not a...

[He glances around at all the chrome.]

...Whatever this is.

[He doesn't even ask what something like this means. He's asleep; it makes sense, doesn't it? That that's what connects them here.]

[Post-apocalyptic Japan. Well, that...that clicks with something else in her head, but it reminds her of a ponce who severely needs a pie to the face, and she'd rather not invite him into her dreams. Jane's mouth sets into a grim line.]

It...it was a virtual reality simulation. We didn't find out until today...they've been airing the entire thing on television all across space - and we were season two.

[She spits out that last bit with venom. Fucking...fuck.]

Jamie and Bolton and Max were from season one...but Jamie's the only one we made it out of there with. Max was already dead, and...

[As if it'd been there all along, another painting becomes noticeable, a recognizable celebrity with an ice skate blade shoved through his throat from the back. It's still dripping blood.]

...How many died? For - for you?

[She's like... He thinks she's like Allie, who still had some strength to be horrified and pissed about the situation, even at the end. Who still had some ability to feel normal feelings. She just found out the truth today. God, this poor kid.]

...Twelve.

[Dave says it quietly.]

We were... round three? Round five? Depending on how you want to count the games before the wormhole machine came into play.

[He turns to the juice machine that, of course, would naturally be there, and starts to fill her a cup of nice cold AJ.]

But our round wasn't a simulation.

...Oh, God...

[She has to steady herself against the buffet table at that. Twelve. Out of...how many? Twenty? Twenty makes sense. And there had been at least two rounds of death before that, somewhere on some Earth far away from here. At least Dave has a name to the mastermind.

Jane breathes deep, tries to count.]

...Fourteen. Out of - out of twenty two. And the dead - they've been taken away. Hooked up to some other simulation where everything's falling apart. We're...we've taken the ship we were actually on, now. We're going to try to find and save them, but we have no idea where they're headed...and yet...

[There's a twinge of hope to her voice. If they can just catch up, surely they'll find a way to save everyone. It won't take away the image of each and every body, the slaughtered, the slain, the executed, but if they just have that chance, they can't not chase it. Not after all that's happened.]

Hey.

[He hesitates awkwardly, because he doesn't know her, really, but if she feels anything like how he did, at the end of everything--carefully, Dave places his hand on her shoulder.]

It was the only thing that kept us going, at the end. The thought that they were still there, could still hear us.

[It wasn't even hope. It was desperation.]

We got them back. If we could, with them being literally actually dead and all, you can, too.

[She looks up at the touch, and doesn't shrug him off. It - it's okay, strangely enough. There's a warmth to it that reminds her of orange soda and the smell of cat dander - a weird mix that had no business mingling to make apple and hot, Houston breezes, but it's there all the same, metaphorically. It takes her a moment before she attempts a smile, her eyes tearing again.]

...I had settled on finding a way to tear it all down with my bare hands. When we found out they might still be...[She reaches up, hesitantly, to place a hand on Dave's.] Well. There's...apparently a whole quadrant of space that's dedicated to being Las Vegas. We'll be stocking up once we get there.

[Golden Endings aren't so easy to come across, beyond the stars.

Jane pulls her hand back, eyes catching onto something she knows Dave hadn't sported in the Medium, brief as their interaction was.] Oh. I...like your arm thingies.

Oh. Yeah. They're, um.

[With a face like the smile he's trying to repress would be a complicated one, he pulls his hand back, too, and twists at something around his finger.]

My fiancée made them for me. When we were still stuck in here. [He bobs his head at their surroundings.] There. Wherever. You know what I mean.

[He flickers, like dream selves sometimes do, and he comes back a little older, wearing clothes a little less... pajama-ey.]

It's been a couple years now, actually. Since I got out of the murder can.

[Strangely enough, her eyes brighten to hear that. So - so it wasn't unusual to fall in love in this place. So there could be a tomorrow for love! It makes her heart feel warm at the thought, but not for her.]

Goodness! How sweet of her-

[She squeaks when Dave changes. He's - he's got a little more height on her now, though considering how short Jane is, that's not a hard thing to do. She blinks rapidly.]

...What the fuck even is time anymore.

[How? Is he older than her?? What?????]

[He shrugs.]

Come on, we're coming in from different universes at this point and also in a dream bubble, why should time ever mean anything.

[He offers her the forgotten cup of apple juice and starts to fill one of his own.]

Here, get some sugar in you. I mean, it won't matter to your real body, but why not get something enjoyable out of this dream while it lasts.

[She looks at the cup awkwardly before taking it. Damn...did the diner have apple juice? It probably did. They had everything.]

Thank you. [She takes a sip. For dream juice, it's pretty darned good.] It's just...I don't know. At first I thought being told I was already sixteen was weird, that - that sending a robot rabbit through paradox space was just a joke. And now I've got a machine embedded into my arm and the first woman I've ever come to admire was a Goddess, and - and there's Space Las Vegas. I am still not over that.

You had Bun Hutchinson, too?

[!!!!]

Ah, well, I suppose I did? Dirk called him "Huggy Bear", and I called him "Lil' Sebastian".

[I mean honestly it's still the same fucking rabbit at its core]

John called him "Liv Tyler." Or I guess she was a her, then. But Hutch is mine now, and also, definitely a boy.

[Those floppy ears, that cuddly face--

Bun Hutchinson hip-hoppities past the door, stops, and peers back in to wave hello.]

[He is soon joined by Lil' Sebastian, who is much more robotic, and who waves at them both. Jane spots them both and laughs despite herself, a hand going up to cover her mouth.]

Hoo hoo! Oh, he's lovely! Just like the others I've gotten - Roxy sent me a wizard, and Jake sent me...oh, he said it was a detective, but it was so clearly some kind of Indiana Jones getup...

[There's a flicker, and suddenly, Jane's clothes have changed - there's the Ghost Beast shirt, joined by a janky black skirt and a horridly lumpy black cardigan, its only button done up under her chest. Some part of her, while grieving, is feeling like that fleeting, normal girl who woke up excited to play a game one November morning.]

[Dave's smiling, a little.]

Rose knitted all the purple stripey parts. And Jade... well, I guess she had your Jake guy's help with Hutch's robot pieces, there.

[God. God, he misses them so much.]

We all gave them to John for his birthday. It's the rabbit from Con Air. Did you know?

[She can't help but grin now, though her earlier actual dream still prickles in her mind.] For Seb, I knew - Dirk told me he'd fished him out from a museum where, um...our Earth's you had the rabbit on display. Probably for those Strider Ironies. But I didn't realize it was the same for the others, too...how funny, that rabbits have followed all of us!

[Should they go meet their bun friends? Jane kind of wants to, even though they're just dreams.]

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