Jane Crocker (
cyan_maid) wrote in
jackabeelounge2017-04-02 05:17 pm
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?]
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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[I mean honestly it's still the same fucking rabbit at its core]
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[Those floppy ears, that cuddly face--
Bun Hutchinson hip-hoppities past the door, stops, and peers back in to wave hello.]
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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.]
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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?
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[Should they go meet their bun friends? Jane kind of wants to, even though they're just dreams.]
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[Hutch decides to moot the question of meeting them altogether and zips into the room, bouncing up to encourage Jane to take his hand. Hello, hello! Dave huffs a laugh under his breath.]
You can hold him if you want.
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Oh gosh, and you can hold Lil' Seb if you so please! I think he's a touch jealous.
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You sure, dude?
[If so, he offers a hand for Seb to climb up, either to sit in the crook of his arm or up on his shoulders.]
A'ight. Come on up.
[Hutch settles quite happily in Jane's arms. Look, he knows what he's about. He's the Con Air bunny. He's about cuddles from sweet, good girls. That's what he's for.]
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In return, Jane is happy to pat Hutch on the head. What good boys they are!]
...So...I mean...might I ask if you...if you know what happened back home? I do remember you told me not to, um...not to die. But, um. I kind of did. Before ending up in space, that is.
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Oh. Um. Yeah, I, uh. Kind of got myself stabbydead too. Before waking up in a hotel.
[Like a stupidhead.]
My understanding is that John and M--Roxy reverse-engineered a timeline where none of that happens, so. Yup.
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[She puts her hands in her skirt-pockets. Oh, hey, the plastic knife is here. She grips it tight.]
So. There's...truly nothing for me to go back to.
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[He asks the question as gently as he can. He's had a year and a half to come to terms with the end of his own story, as far as SBURB goes. He doubts she's gotten as far away from it, if she's still sixteen.]
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...As soon as I remembered what that witch had done, I...I knew I couldn't. No one would be safe if I came back just to fall into her clutches again. A-And if there's nothing left for me, then...what's the point, you know?
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[As soon as he'd remembered he was dead, none of it--the epic arc of fate and fatalism, the worry about Jade, the sick sliver of hope that stuck in his heart that somehow, things would be all right--it all fell away. The whole thing was so stupid, wasn't it? Heroes and gods. Who the hell did he think he was?]
I forget how long it took for it to sink it that I wouldn't be seeing anybody again. John, or Rose. Jade. Karkat.
[He sighs brusquely and turns aside to continue investigating their surroundings.]
The fam keeps me from being lonely ever, but, y'know. I still miss them like hell.
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...I had hoped...at the beginning, that, when they realized I wasn't responding to messages...that they'd find some way to save me. I have - so much faith in each of them, that they'd be clever enough, resourceful enough, stubborn enough to try to go to space, if they knew.
[Her Dad. Roxy. Dirk. Jake. Hell, even Calliope would have done whatever she could. And now she'll never see any of them again.]
But - but you can't exactly know something if you're...
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[It's not the sharp, deep-running pain it used to be. It's scabbed over, started to scar. It aches but doesn't rip him open.]
Sorry.
[...For the first time, he's really found someone who can understand the totality of what he's been through. All of it, from beginning... to beginning. And Dave finds that there's very little he can say. Sobered, he keeps his counsel for a time.]
...Haha. [It's not a real laugh, just air with sound.] One of my plans, before I remembered what happened, was gonna be to track you down and, I dunno. Ask you pretty please to resurrect all my friends from here.
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You - please, don't. Don't apologize. You don't have a single thing to be sorry for.
[Though, at his plan...she smiles. The expression is so tight and fragile.]
...I wanted to bring them all back so badly. When - when I remembered, I marched right to one of the Overseers and demanded to know where they kept everyone's...but...none of them were on board. They were cremated and jettisoned. And then I was so afraid to tell the others what I could do, I thought...even though I couldn't remember the Lifey Thing, I should've tried...and I was certain they'd hate me...but then, when more people died, and I tried to bring them back, it didn't...
[She knows it's not her fault. After two weeks of beating herself up and being told differently, she knows - and after seeing where the dead really were, she shouldn't feel badly. But she does.]
...I couldn't even do the one thing that loathsome game made me destined to do. On top of every other failure...
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[The words come low and reluctant out of his mouth. Even now, as tightly as he clings to his powers, he hates everything that comes with them.]
I should have been able to make it all not happen.
[Flat, steely, impenetrable. This is a fact, and he will not brook any kindness telling him it wasn't his fault, that he wasn't responsible for the game. That doesn't matter. He spent three years wishing he didn't have those powers, and only when Monaka stripped them away did he realize what he had to lose.]
But I couldn't even do that in SBURB. Sure as hell couldn't do it with my powers shut off like I forgot to pay my fuckin' utilities. And after, when they came back, I didn't...
[He trails off, then looks down and away.]
I was scared to try. Didn't want to go back in. [He breathes out a little shakily.] Thought I might get stuck and have to live it all over again.
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...I. I...[Jane shakes her head.] Look, Time...is not something I can even grasp, so I can't...I can't tell you what you should've done. But, if you think you'd end up looping that whole game, then...well...maybe it was for the best you didn't try. And besides, if I had my powers there...they still wouldn't have come back. We - we were stuck in a simulation. In the goshdarned Matrix.
[Jane turns away, looking down at the floor. It almost looks like it's covered in syrup and lemonade again. In blood. In bleach, in scorch marks, in pool water-]
...God. Just. Fuck that horrid game and everything it stands for.
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A-fuckin'-men to that. Cheers.
[Blindly, he reaches for Jane's elbow, and only opens his eyes briefly when his hand doesn't immediately connect. There, the solidity of contact, even in their dreams.]
Come on. Let's get out of here. Nothing good's gonna happen in this place.
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...Okay. But...where will we go?
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[He lets her go again, striding towards the door through which the bunnies entered, but as soon as he sees what's beyond this room, he recoils, shock and disgust writing themselves large across even his face.
It's still a little jumbled between her world and his, but out there--outside the cafeteria, the hotel restaurant--a body. There's a body in the lobby, bright with that pink paint.]
Shit.
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Hey, what's - [And then she sees the body.] - Oh...oh...w-what the hell...
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[Dave turns and tries gently to block her view and guide her away from the scene. It's a small woman, maybe college age, slumped against a wall with a sheet of long, black hair falling around her.
She is very definitely dead.]
It's fine, you don't have to look. M-my bad. Sorry.
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the black hair
the
There's a creak as a door down the hybrid hotel/space station hall, and Jane glances out of the corner of her eye, and then pointedly looks away, shivering.]
Oh, Jesus.
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