when I lived alone, is there a ghost in my house?

[mylawn]

WHO? 76 (mylawn) and YOU
WHAT? fabulous dream adventures
WHEN? dream time
ANYTHING ELSE? violence, the robot war, you know.

i. dad punches you in the face for the low, low price of free (this one is not a dream)

[76 knows, on some level, that something is wrong. He’s fairly certain he’s dozed off here and there, but he can’t remember exactly where or when or for how long—only that he was left with a strange, unsettling feeling each time. For someone as paranoid as he is, he knows it doesn’t bode well, but being unable to pinpoint the problem means there’s little for him to do.

As always, he hits the recreation area to take his mind off things. It seems wailing on a punching bag is one of few ways he knows how to blow off steam, and he’s easily found doing just that. He doesn’t seem to mind being interrupted, at least, knowing full well that he offered hand-to-hand pointers over the network. He certainly recognizes the cathartic value of beating the crap out of something or someone, even if it’s not the healthiest of coping mechanisms.

Perhaps that’s what you’re looking for. 76 isn’t going to judge.]

Need something?

[Or, you might find him asleep, slumped over in a chair, gloves and water bottle discarded nearby, like he only meant to take a short break. Probably you should wake him up???]

ii. the humans are dead (this one is a dream)

[Everything is on fire.

It’s difficult to tell just what, exactly, is burning, because the scene seems to shift between a few different locals that blur together and separate and merge again, cityscapes and building interiors and battlefields, but the overall effect is the same. Harsh red emergency lighting cuts through the dark and smoke, and there’s the very distinct feeling of being trapped. The shadows of mechanical soldiers close in, punctuated by the sounds of gunfire and explosions and collapsing rebar. As if that wasn’t threatening enough, metallic groans in the distance give the impression that the whole place (if one can even call it that) is about to come crashing down.

The one voice that cuts through it all might sound familiar, even if it’s coming from someone who you definitely haven’t seen before (unless you squint).]

—respond. Do you read me, Reyes?

[He keeps going, barking more names into what seems to be some kind of communicator, but there’s no response. Given the current state of things, it takes him a moment to realize he isn’t alone, but as soon as he notices the intrusion, he’s closing the distance, apparently to usher you away as quickly as possible, despite his own obvious distress.]

It’s not safe here, come on. [You’re a civilian! You shouldn’t be in the middle of a war zone!] You need to evacuate.

iii. sad ghost hoots then scoots (this one is also a dream)

[You’re interrupting a fight.

A fairly explosive one, if the surroundings are any indication. 76, in full tactical gear, is currently throwing down with a figure in a black robe, though it’s difficult to tell just what the figure is, exactly, especially when it only seems to have a form some of the time, dissolving and re-forming constantly as and 76 scrabble at each other. Sharp silver claws reach out of the black smog to try and strangle him, and the whole thing devolves into a visceral struggle.

There’s a gunshot, and another outburst of smoke as 76’s opponent loses shape entirely and rushes away as a formless miasma. 76 tries to right himself.]

Don’t just stand there—

[He barks it out, the tone that of someone used to giving orders under duress, but there’s something desperate in it too. When he stands, it’s easy to see why—there’s blood on the ground, but despite the sway in his stance, he’s making a concentrated effort to take off in pursuit, not particularly caring that you’re in the way. If you aren’t going to help, he’s just going to push his way past.

iv. wildcard

[I’ll do whatever you want. You write a thing. I’ll write a thing. Hit me up at whitticus.]

Comments

[mylawn]

[The only thing worse than a civilian in peril is a child civilian in peril, and whether his team is missing or not, Jack's immediate objective becomes getting this kid to safety. Jack squats a little where he stands, hand outstretched, letting the kid know that it's safe to come out.

It's not safe to come out, but Jack will do his very best to deliver him out of this mess.]

It's okay. I'm here to help.

[He knows that's not an answer, but it's not as if they have the luxury of time.]

But you have to stick with me and do what I say, all right?

[dipolar]

(the proffered hand is shied away from and the child finds his feet without help, jaw squeezing tight around things he shouldn't say. he can't give away his objectives, not to an american despite the familiarity of the face— but his sister. she's the most important part of him, the only thing keeping him from destroying himself. would this man understand that?)

I'm not leaving. Not until I find Bai.

(punctuated by a creak from the ceiling, beams and metal sagging under the heat of the raging fire.

a shift with a sharp huff of stress, trying to hide it behind what he thinks is an impassive look up. it falls very short, a boy this young unable to coach expressions into anything believably hardened. a hand goes beneath his arm to slap at where a dagger should be, finding nothing but fabric, groping at nothing. then he realizes he's in a simple button-up. nothing to defend himself with.

no.)

Are you going to come with me?

[mylawn]

[The only thing worse than one child in the middle of a war zone is two, and Jack knows immediately that he's not going to be able to let himself go if he doesn't find the second. His own team is put by the wayside--it had seemed increasingly unlikely that he'd be able to locate them, so Jack knows he might have to cut his losses. Save what civilians he can, and hope that his team can make it out on their own.

But there is some subconscious part of him that knows he's doomed to failure in that department anyway. This is something he might be able to accomplish.]

I can help you.

[Even if lingering a second longer than they should means that both of them will die. Their window is rapidly closing, if the groans of rebar are any indication. Jack will have to be quick.]

How did you get separated?

[dipolar]

I was— we were in Bolivia, there were trees... where is this?

(this is nowhere close to what he'd been expecting, but this man is older, sounds like his commanding officer, and an obedient switch flips in hei that has him bowing his head in deference. he'll know better, that's the logical thing to do. trust the ones with experience, mimic them, tailor what they know and take it as your own.)

No, I, I remember now, there was this big office. (straining to think as he moves closer, far more willing when 76 says he can help,) With rows and rows of desks and a huge screen on the wall. She was there, she was waiting for me to do something and come back.

(stares up at the man, imploring,) Do you know where? Please...

[mylawn]

[This is definitely not Bolivia, but it's certainly not out of the question that the kid's already suffered some kind of trauma, and doesn't know where he is or what's happening. All the more reason to get out of here as quickly as he can--it's entirely likely that his friend doesn't even exist, or is already dead, and the child is just trying to process what's happened to him. Jack is left with the choice between risking both their lives for an uncertainty, or taking the increasingly slim window to make it out alive.

The answer seems obvious, but the slight possibility that there is another child here, within their reach, means that Jack is going to have to try. It's in his nature to do so, despite the inherent risk to them both.

Luckily, a big office is not unheard of in the building this place used to be, and Jack gives a firm nod.]

We've got to hurry.

[dipolar]

Okay. Okay.

(climbs out from behind the desk, more than willing to go with the authoritative man he has to crane his neck to look up at.

gets behind him just as the weak segment of the ceiling gives out with a shower of sparks and caves onto the hiding place he was in, getting a sharp sound of surprise from him, making a grab for the tail of soldier 76's coat.)

Are we going to die?

[mylawn]

[Jack holds out his hand to the child, internally relieved that they're not going to waste any more time fighting about whether he's going to stay or leave. The sound of the ceiling caving in where they were a moment ago makes up their minds for them, and certainly makes him cringe, but he steels himself and pulls Hei along, hand on his shoulder and urging him to move his feet.]

No, we're not.

[He can't promise that, but like hell is he going to tell a kid otherwise. Jack takes a quick look up and down the corridors, trying to remember which room might be the one they're after. It's difficult, with everything falling apart, but he thinks he can visualize it, even through the smoke.]

Just stay close. This way.