kaisou | [open] i dreamed a dream the other night (lowlands away)

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[open] i dreamed a dream the other night (lowlands away)

WHO: Edward Kenway and you!
WHERE: in your dreams. and then on the network.
WHEN: the latter half of March post-You Know What.
WHAT: local pirate gets Dream Viewer from the Goodwill and gets into all kinds of shenanigans.
WARNINGS: blanket AssCreed warnings (violence, murder, piracy) as a general rule but otherwise nothing!

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[It's been a long and stressful month for Edward. He doesn't need as much sleep as he used to, these days, but tonight he goes to bed determined to sleep much of the day away, because frankly he needs a break and maybe being unconscious for a while will do the trick!

Unfortunately, this hope gets well and truly dashed when he opens his eyes and finds himself nowhere near Bristol, Nassau, Great Inagua, or any of his old haunts back home, the ones he still dreams of. Instead he's—somewhere else entirely, and the only familiar thing he can find is someone from the app.

What were you dreaming about? Was it a good dream, or a nightmare, or something like those dreams you used to have back in school when you went up on stage and everyone started giggling and you realized you were just completely naked in front of God, your teacher, your crush, and everyone? Do you know what your dream could've used? Probably not a pirate and semi-Assassin looking around his surroundings with sheer bafflement but well, hey, now you've got one!]

...what the hell's going on here?

network | text; un: captainkenway

How do you stop walking into other people's dreams by accident and stay in your own dream?

Barring that, can you get drunk in a dream?

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[The dream also almost certainly probably didn't need a being currently in the shape of what can only be described as a cross between a werewolf and mothman (or perhaps it did, just as a sign of how bad the dreamer is bombing it), but, well, he's also here now, looking just as confused by the situation as the pirate.]

A very poor performance, I believe? Or perhaps a very good one. I admit, I am not versed enough in the performing arts to tell which this is.

[You know what, fine, he will accept the presence of werewolf/mothman-thing in this dream because at this point, Edward is too tired to protest. Okay, this is happening, he guesses.]

It's a poor one. The nakedness is the least of his problems. [Is this a common dream. The hell.] His voice keeps wavering as he speaks. Poor quality for anyone who wishes to seem like an authority, worse when you're up on stage like that and speaking to a hundred people. You need a louder bark than that.

[Nito thinks about this for a moment.]

Hm... Do you think we should attempt to assist somehow, or might it be better to leave him to his own devices?

[Edward looks around, checking to see if there’s any hostiles in sight, more out of absent-minded habit than anything. When nothing comes up, he shrugs.]

Eh. Do whatever you wish, I [and he leans back in his chair] ain’t moving. This chair’s comfy.

[Nito's antennae twitch lazily, less to detect threats and more out of idle curiosity.]

To his own devices then. Tis rare that I find a chair that accommodates me so readily. [A brief pause.] It occurs to me that we did not introduce ourselves last we met. I am Nito.

Eh, he'll live. At least this is a dream.

[And honestly it's a break from accidentally walking right into his friends' horrific trauma! He glances at Nito, then holds his hand out for the fellow to shake.]

Edward Kenway. It's a pleasure to properly meet you, Nito.

The place is a frozen land covered in deep drifts of snow, an endless blizzard swirling around. A strange and massive tree-like object looms, and there's signs of a recent battle. A slightly younger Ritsuka stands there accompanied by a girl carrying a giant shield, both of them bundled against the cold. Out of the blizzard limps some kind of beast-man, clearly on his last legs, who approaches Ritsuka.

"How good of you to come, pruner of humanity," the beastman speaks. "Why do you wish to destroy our world? is your own truly worth so much? Is it worth slaughtering each and every Yaga struggling to survive here? To save your world means to destroy ours. If you do this, you will be responsible for the death of every Yaga in Russia. So I ask you! What gives you the right?!"

Ritsuka clearly struggles to form an answer, and furious, the beastman attacks.

And a gunshot rings out. It's a warning shot, close to the beastman's head, as if to show him that whoever shot at him meant to miss.

"Get the hell away from her, you furry bastard," Edward snarls, drawing another gun as he slides this one back into its place. "Or the next ball goes into your skull."

He needn't have bothered; while the beastman doesn't hesitate, being merely the dream figment of a memory, the girl with the shield leaps to Ritsuka's defense, and he's soon defeated.

Though, he's not without anything more to say. "This is the end... You stand here, though you still lack resolve... How fitting for the one from the realm of the weak that is Proper Human History... And yet... That grief you hold in your heart... Your empathy for others... We Yaga no longer have the capacity for it...

"I see now... That is why... this world.. was defeated... Victory is yours... I accept... my defeat..."

And with those parting words, he vanished, crumbling into dust. Ritsuka, still stunned, quietly demands an answer from the Chaldea staff, who confirm the truth of the beastman's words.

There's more that's said, other people and armed beastmen arriving, the girl with the shield fighting off attackers, but it's something of a distant blur as Ritsuka barely reacts to her surroundings. Her usual will to fight, refusal to give up, is simply... gone.

Which is when the beastmen take the opportunity to fire on her.

Oh, he gets it. He's been there. He remembers months spent in Kingston, drunk for days on end and refusing to sober up. He could've taken a ship and left even without the Jackdaw but what point was there? What use could he be? Mary had died and he couldn't even save her and everyone he loved had left him and they were right was the thing, they were right to leave him, the only thing he had left was the Observatory and Roberts had taken that prize from him.

So he sees her simply staring at nothing, and then he spots the beastmen.

Ah, fuck.

He moves fast, running towards the nearest beastman to shove a sword into his throat and firing a gun at another one. "Don't you fucking well dare!" he yells out.

On the one hand, even within the dream, he does manage to take out a few of the beastment. On the other hand, there's more than just a few, and bows twang and gunshots still ring out...

But if he turns, he'll see that Ritsuka's unharmed, because one of their own number had leaped in front of her to bodily shield her from the missiles.

"Patxi...?"

"... I'll never forgive you." The bleeding beastman, Patxi, grabs Ritsuka by her coat. "For as long as I live. You know why? Because thanks to you, I now know there's another, happier world out there. So stand up, dammit. Stand up and fight for it. Don't you dare go losing to a world like this, a world whose only virtue is strength!"

Ritsuka cries as Patxi tells her to continue fighting, then as the beastman's strength fades he lets out a weak laugh. "... Well damn. Turns out... making you cry... isn't as much fun.. as I thought..."

And with that he collapses to the ground.

Edward, busy stabbing the shit out of another beastman with his hidden blade, turns to see that Ritsuka is—oh thank god, unharmed, safe, all right.

He doesn't give half a shit for the beastman, beyond a flash of pity. This is a dream and Edward knows shit-all about these people, about this world, about what they said to Ritsuka (pruner of humanity, Christ). All he cares about is his friend is crying, so he rushes forward to her, covered in blood though he is, to take her shoulders.

"Ritsuka—lass, are you all right? How hurt are you?" Please be safe, please god be safe. He'll kill every last beastman here if he must to get them both out of here safely.

Dream of a memory or no, now that Edward's right in front of her, talking to her, Ritsuka can't help but notice.

"... Edward...?"

There's a vague feeling of something shifting, as her unconscious mind starts moving toward lucidity. It's not quite there yet and she sounds quite confused, but it does mean the action around them stalls.

Edited 2024-03-16 13:38 (UTC)

Edward finally, finally relaxes, gives her a reassuring smile and squeezes her shoulder gently.

“Aye, lass, it’s me,” he says. He straightens up and holds his hand out for her to take, eyes the beastmen with a look of cold anger, like he’s just daring them to try taking aim at Ritsuka again while he’s around to kill them all. Sure, this is only a dream, but they’d tried to kill his friend. “Shall we get you back to—ah, wherever you’re staying? You’ll have to guide me, I don’t know where I am.”

"What?" Ritsuka's clearly confused, the half-paused memory still tugging at her mind. "We still have to fi--..."

But no, that's not quite right, is it? This already happened, she knows it has. Just like she knows Edward shouldn't be here, couldn't possibly be here.

(Edward? Not Edmond--)

It takes a moment, with the continued feeling of something somehow shifting, then Ritsuka blinks. Once, twice, and then somehow it's the Ritsuka that Edward knows from Kaisou standing there, as if it's been her all along.

"... Oh. I'm dreaming."

She doesn't quite say the 'again', but it certainly hangs in the air nonetheless.

“We both are,” says Edward. He gestures to himself, and says, “I’d really like to get out of this dream, I did not mean to find my way here. Wherever here is.” It sounds like a doomed world, from what the beastmen were talking about, but—they’d called Ritsuka a pruner of humanity.

He’ll ask her about that later. Right now they need off this battlefield, so he inclines his head towards her. “Well?” he says. “Where do we go now? I don’t know about you, but I’m not sticking around for these furry gits to take another shot at either of us.”

"This is the Russian lostbelt," Ritsuka replies, without really thinking. "And we did fight, after this..."

She shakes her head.

"I wasn't hurt though." Not physically, at least. "You don't know how you got here?"

"I have some idea," he admits. "I think it's the shopkeeper's fault, the one from the Goodwill. I'd stopped by to see if there was anything interesting, got one of those Pokémon, and he must've slipped something right into my bag as I was leaving." This is not the first time the Goodwill's shopkeeper has somehow managed such a feat on Edward, and by now he's little more than annoyed about how often it happens.

He pauses. "If we must fight them to push forward, point me to whoever needs killing," he says, with a casual little shrug. Look, this is something he's good at, and honestly he'd really love to throw down with these bastards. He hasn't had a good brawl since he was in Copenhagen last year. "Otherwise, I don't like the idea of staying on this—lostbelt, whatever that means, a second more than we should."

"Some kind of new magic, then..."

Or something like that. People with the power to enter dreams isn't a new concept to Ritsuka by a long shot, it had just been a surprise to find Edward doing it. She glances around the surrounding area, the Yaga forces and the others leading and aiding them, Patxi's body, and gives a small sigh.

"I don't really know much about that, but I'm gonna try to wake up now."

She doesn't know what will happen to Edward when she does. Get kicked out of the then non-existent dream, sure, but whether he'll just wake up or get punted to something else, Ritsuka has no idea. Really though, the only reason she's waited this long to do it is she wanted to be sure he was okay.

"Sorry."

Sorry you had to see all that.

Perhaps if he does wake up as well he could call her up or something. Ritsuka's definitely going to be sitting up a while before sleeping again in any case.

Edward gives her a small smile, and shakes his head. "I'm sorry," he says, softly. "I didn't mean to walk into this dream of yours." He'll have to get better control over this new magic, then, because he honestly doesn't want to hop into a friend's head by accident and learn some horrible secret they've been trying their hardest to keep.

He steps back. "Have a good morning, Ritsuka," he says.

Ritsuka doesn't really consider this a secret, Mash and the Chaldea staff had all witnessed it, after all. But she does, however, have a bit of an aversion to upsetting people she respects and cares about.

Which probably goes a long way toward explaining her tendency to keep things to herself.

In any case though, she has no interest in lingering, and doesn't waste any further time in making herself wake up, the dream promptly vanishing with her. Maybe she'll try getting back to sleep later, maybe not, either way she'll be sitting awake for a bit, in any case.

Ohhhhh yeah. I've had that thing for like. Forever.

I usually just ignore it until I jump back somewhere else. Like, I LOVE the tea but people's weirdo dreams are SUPER not tea, you know! That's like... mental trauma, nooooo thanks.

Aye, some people have seen quite a lot more than I ever expected they would. And quite a bit of it I don’t think I should’ve seen at all.

But there’s a surprising amount of people who have dreams about being naked and giving a presentation.

Yuuuuup. Like it's totally cheating to see that sort of thing if they're not gonna actually TELL you. Even I've got lines.

HA right! Also being in school despite like, so many of them being fully grown adults! It's wild!

It's a breach of trust. I don't want anyone rooting around in my head, why would I wish to dig around for secrets in someone else's?

And even if it would come in useful against a threat, it's really much easier to just track them down and eavesdrop on them.

I never went to school, my parents taught me how to read and write and do sums. Does it really feature so much speaking in class while naked?

Right!! It'd be like reading their psyche reports or something. Just DO NOT!

You'd get more sense in the waking world too.

Oh yeah, it's always a BIG thing. High school is like, a SPECIAL kind of hell that leaves literal trauma in everyone's heads.

Psych reports?

Aye, none of this business about dream interpretation and whatnot. All you have to do is stay out of sight until you have the information you need.

[Just casually discussing eavesdropping on people nbd nbd.]

Apparently I got off easy, then. Funny how so many people are worried they'd go up onstage naked, as though this wouldn't be something they notice very quickly.

Yeah. So like when you go and see a therapist. They write reports on how messed up your head is. That's what a psych report is.

EXACTLY! It passes eventually.

[It's fine, it's fine. It's not like any of them asked to be in the dreams!]

I'm sure there's some like, DEEPLY important reason why people are nervous about being naked in public. IDK what that is, but it's gotta be there to be in people's COLLECTIVE consciousness, right?

Zulius, you're going to have to tell me what a therapist is beyond someone who tells you about the state of your head, because the closest I can think of is a priest.

Maybe they'd rather that no one saw them with their bits all sagging.

OH! Right! Okay so a therapist is someone who will listen to all your problems and like, help you to fix them? Like. PROFESSIONALLY. I've never been to one because I'm perfect in every way, but apparently, they help people out a lot! Usually without all the weird religion stuff that comes with a priest!

[He needs therapy. So badly. ]

OMG you are totes right.

[Overhead, the night skies are a deep bloodied orange blackened by choking haze and smoke, the land a ruined waste strewn with debris and rubble, The vague suggestions of what had once been houses burn and crackle as their skeletal remains crack and collapse with a flurry of sparks and cinders. The smell of burning flesh and disturbing lack of screams spoke volumes as to how many injured or survivors were likely to be lingering in agony on smoldering ground.]

[The world is burning, or so it certainly seems. And walking through hell itself, silhouetted by distance and haze, was a strange figure--two leaning on one another, perhaps.]

[Edward’s seen the world burning before. He’d been on Ocracoke when the Brits had sprung their trap, seen men die burning as he ran towards his ship. He remembers a mortar far far too close to him for his liking, remembers the fury on Thatch’s face as they charged towards the British ships. Had he known then that he would die there?

Edward stares up and around himself. He can’t take to the rooftops, not with them burning like this. He pulls the collar of his shirt up over his nose to block out the smoke and, pushing the memories out of his own head, runs towards the two figures in the distance, calling out to them:]

Hey, wait up a moment! [He’s fresh, he’s fast, he’s pretty sure he can just catch up to them if he can just keep going in a straight line towards them, and never mind any obstacles in his path. He might not be an Assassin, but he moves like one.] Wait, hold on, we have to talk!

[Fortunately, neither one is moving very fast, and for good reason.]

[A woman with hair that was once silver, skin that was once ethereally perfect, and a gown that was once immaculate walks in careful steps, covered in the dirt and ash of the surrounding wasteland. Leaning heavily on her with an arm slung over her shoulders is a young man stained with blood and ash, wincing at the ache of a burn on his shoulder and heavily favoring his right leg.]

Are you sure this is the right way?

[The woman speaks with uncertainty, but holds a resolve that suggests she damn well plans to get out of this disaster. And when her companion speaks, it was in a familiar albeit higher pitched voice, with a very familiar accent.]

I'm sure. If we can find a path straight north, we'll get back to my home base.

Edited 2024-03-17 02:13 (UTC)

[Is that Waver? Is that Waver? Good lord, he’s so small. And where’s Diarmuid? He can’t—He can’t see him anywhere, but that doesn’t mean anything, does it? Not when he knows the man can turn into a ghost. He must be here, somewhere, keeping watch. He wouldn’t leave Waver unless…

Edward shudders at the thought, and catches up to them fast.]

Waver? Mate, is that you? What happened here? [He eyes the woman with some surprise.] And who is this?

...Huh-?

[The world itself seemed to hitch for a moment, as though time skipped half a beat before pausing entirely. Waver--small, wide-eyed, looking like a wounded and cornered prey animal finding its nerve to fight back--blinked a few times.]

Do I kn--no. Wait. What's going on? [Irisviel beside him had gone still, the flames crackling indistinct as a half-remembered memory even as the flames and destruction had practically frozen solid.He looked around in uncertainty, trying to catch up to whatever was happening at this particular moment.]

This is...definitely a dream, isn't it? You can't be here.

[Edward shrugs, and spreads his hands. Does he look like he’s got any clue what’s going on either?]

I know that, already. I don’t know how to get out of here. [The Dream Viewer ability did not come with a manual, and Edward’s still mad at the shopkeeper for that.] Believe me, if I knew how I’d have left already. I don’t make it a habit of peeking into other people’s heads.

[And now that he knows you all have significant trauma he is even less interested.]

Where’s your home base? I’ll take you and your friend there, and if you’ve any enemies lying in wait on the way I’ll pick ‘em off.

I-it's a little ways north. This fire isn't--didn't go past the residential district. It'll let out into regular streets and less damage, and then it's a short distance away.

[Even as horrifying a statement as that was, it was still a sort of cold comfort. It wasn't the entire city, or the entire world like it seemed to be.]

We'll be fine; this isn't a nightmare. [The dream flower from the same shop made that impossible, which spoke volumes to the kinds of nightmares Waver probably had. Gradually, the world began to move and function again, though beneath a strangely blurry haze that betrayed that it wasn't truly reality.]

...her name is Irisviel. This is...the aftermath of the Holy Grail War.

[It’s a horrifying statement, and even more horrific is finding out what this is: the aftermath of the Holy Grail War. He knows the Holy Grail of legend, and looking at the damage a war over it has wrought has him shuddering at the thought of it. So much horror, all over one artifact.

And what horrors would the Observatory unleash?]

This is the aftermath? This is your reward for surviving? Hell, mate. I’m sorry. [He looks around, wondering where Diarmuid is. He’ll ask later. For now:]

If this isn’t a nightmare, Waver, I’d hate to see what a real nightmare looks like for you. [He steps up beside him, slipping into Eagle Vision as he does so and looking around, scanning for any spots of red lurking around.] Who is this Irisviel? A friend of yours? She seems nice.

...She was an enemy Master, basically. [It wasn't the whole truth, but the reality was too complex to care about right now.] But after all this went to hell, she and I were the only ones left alive.

[Skating right past the implication of how bad his nightmares got with an uneasy grimace, Waver fell briefly silent; the less distinct surroundings grew less fiery and more blurred in tones of blue and silver; the half-recalled streets of a city dealt a terrible blow, and the stillness of the complete state of shock which followed.]

I couldn't walk, and she didn't know where to go. So we got each other out of that wasteland, and I stayed with her for two years afterwards.

[He lets go of his second sight. Nothing stands out to him, so he relaxes a little more, fiddling idly with his hidden blade bracers. Basically—there's more to the story than just that, but Edward lets that lie for now.]

So you allied with each other and left the war behind. [He gets it. There's a haunted look in his eye just then as well, like he knows what it feels like to be one of a few left standing at the end of an era.] She seems all right. But...if she's a Master, and you are as well, where are Diarmuid and her friend?

[Or do they leave, when the Holy Grail War is done? Vanish into smoke and return to whatever afterlife they were pulled from?

He glances at Waver again. Good god, he's so small. He's barely older than Edward was when he first set out to become a privateer.]

...

[Waver's arm tightened around the silently determined Irisviel, eyes downcast as his other hand wiped away ash and blood on his face. He was small for nineteen, but the weary determination worn into him that night so many years ago made him imperceptibly seem so much older for a moment in spite of that.]

...They're gone. Lancer, Saber, and Archer were the last three left. There's no Servants, no clear winner, and the only Holy Grail is whatever cataclysm set off all that fire.

[...oh.]

Fuck. I'm sorry. [He reaches a hand out to squeeze Waver's shoulder, gently. He'll make fun of him for how tiny he is later. For now, all he can do is offer his sympathies.] How far can you walk on that leg? I can carry you there, you just have to give me directions.

It's okay. Even in my dreams I don't really remember how we got-

[The world blurred and shifted again, into darker tones of nighttime blue. As it began to clear and sharpen somewhat, the surroundings remained hazy but recognizeable; an abandoned Japanese estate in some measure of disrepair. Habitable--barely--but coated in disturbed layers of dust and neglect as if someone had only been living there for the past few days. Alone for the moment, Waver dropped into a chair in front of a desk bearing empty glass vials and scattered paperwork covered with arcane sigils.]

-...home.

[The world shifts, and leaves Edward feeling suddenly unsteady on his feet, which is something of an accomplishment considering how much of his life has been spent onboard a ship. He looks around, then brushes some dust off of the surface of the desk and perches on it, careful not to disturb the glass vials but caring less about the paperwork.

He'd...almost forgotten, what Waver had told him back when Diarmuid had fallen asleep. The man had died for him already. This was the aftermath.]

So this is your home. [He looks around, taking it all in.] It ain't half-bad, and hey. It doesn't look like there's a skeleton hanging around here, so it's already better than the estate I stole a bit ago.

It was just a temporary thing during the war. No one was using it, so we snuck in and used it as a base. Definitely no skeletons, though.

[A broken-down ruin nobody would take notice of. Barely habitable, but enough for the shortest of terms.]

Irisviel took one look at the place and practically dragged me to her castle out in the forest instead. Cold as hell and way too much space for four people, but...it's not so bad.

Edited 2024-03-18 14:34 (UTC)

I can see why, but... [He circles around the room, looking around, a corner of his mouth lifting slightly upward.] It's quite a nice place, so I'm not surprised it drew you in. Needs a lick of paint and some repairs, but what doesn't?

[He reaches out a hand and just pats the wall.]

—smart of your friend to have a castle hidden in the forest. Trying to infiltrate a fortress is hellishly difficult. [He says having done it before.]

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[open] i dreamed a dream the other night (lowlands away)

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Action (thread contains death; discussion of destroying worlds)

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text: UN: hotgoss

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action; cw: offscreen immolation

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