agogelogs | [OPEN] what kingly dreams

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[OPEN] what kingly dreams

WHO? Noctis and you (and some other losers maybe)
WHAT? Dreams
WHEN? Whenever both our characters are asleep during this event
ANYTHING ELSE? Possible violence and trauma

[ Dream A ]

[ The decorations on the Citadel almost seem like physical impossibilities, great waterfalls of fabric draped over towering architecture and what feels like a never-ending amount of petals or confetti catching the light as they fall. It's not really all that consistent. It is a dream, after all.

Maybe that's why the crowd that chokes the plaza feels so indistinct, fuzzy background faces cheering for the wedding they're about to witness. Noctis takes a deep breath as he gathers his composure, unable to adjust his collar because fidgeting is inappropriate but it's so itchy. Nevertheless he turns his head from where he's standing at the height of the stairs, looking to what should be his bride climbing the last few. Except... ]

Wait, this isn't right. [ You are not Luna. ]

[ Dream B ]

[ The indignant cheeping of the chocobos in response to their beautiful plumage getting wet is louder at least than the steady rainfall against the rooftop of the Wiz Chocobo Post. Louder still might be Noctis's scoffing at his own hair getting wet, trying his best to smooth it down even as he ducks under the railing of one of the bird pens. ]

Easy, easy... You think I want to be out here either? [ Why is he here? He doesn't know beyond that it's definitely his job to feed these animals; that's a certainty. Did he take up a part-time job or something? One gloved hand smoothes feathers as he calls out to the other presumed worker on duty. ]

Hey, can you pass me that bag of greens?

[ Dream C ]

[ Students are whispering behind him, he can feel it. They always do. He looks younger, feels younger, and the school uniform he's wearing is as uncomfortable as it ever was.

He stares at the board, a complex math equation he's never seen carefully scrawled onto its face as his teacher tuts disapprovingly. "How can we have a prince that can't even solve something so rudimentary? You're so unlike your father," she says, and his discomfort only grows.

This is like a nightmare... How could anyone know the answer? ]

[ closed to Achilles ]

Come... on! Stay down already!

[ The bark of a frustrated yell comes from a visibly irritated Noctis, sword vanishing in an array of crystalline light before being replaced in his hands by a vicious-looking spear. He's facing down a monstrous beast that seems all too intent on slashing him open with swipes of its claws, narrowly dodging each hit. ]

Gladio! Where's-- Prompto, Ignis! Where are you?! [ That spear is hurtled at the behemoth's head as he warps in for an attack of his own, getting in a few solid strikes before he tumbles back down onto grass. Help's always appreciated. ]

[ closed to Midnighter ]

[ Noctis is unused to spending much time in the throne room of the Citadel these days, and it's even harder to remember a time when he's been in here alone. Fingers drag over the smooth surface of one of the throne's armrests before abruptly jerking back, as if he's suddenly remembered it should only be his father's right to place his hand there.

Where is he? He should be here. It's too quiet and Noctis has always loathed coming in here as an adult; there's no reason for him to linger when he expects an advisor or guard to show up and chide him at any moment.

The sudden sound of footsteps has him turning his head, however, the only warning he's given before the doors at the far end of the room burst open and another young male who looks to be close to his age -- but in much, much worse condition -- runs through them. Has he ever seen this person before? No, his mind says, but he doesn't belong in here. ]

Hey! Hey, are you okay? [ Noctis is taking those steps two at a time to move to his side. ]

[ closed to Hei ]

[ It's night.

The starscape in Lucis is stunning, too, a totally unique beauty that he could never appreciate in the metropolis of Insomnia. Out here, away from civilization... everything seems to slow down a little. Everything feels more real.

And it isn't what he wants to see; it's not his friends, or Luna, or the place that he'd most call "home". But it's what he needs to see, his world and the lands he's destined to rule over. Noctis exhales as he drags his fingers through cool grass, head turning to see the shadow of another figure only illuminated by starlight. ]

... ah. Hey. [ Again his gaze turns skyward, even if he feels a greater sense of unease now. ] It'd be good if this lasted, huh?

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How do you-- [ --know that, words that die in his throat the second the image of a stunning throne room phases into something far more claustrophobic and haunting. That smell... What's that smell, it's something he's never known in his life and certainly could never dream.

He keeps pace with Midnighter as they cut around the corner, finally just giving into a hurried nod. ] Okay... I'm gonna' help keep you safe too, okay? You just tell me what I need to know. [ Aside from getting into this vent, and quickly; whatever they're running from has this boy terrified and he's not wasting any time before ducking down and crawling inside. ]

You can't, [He says, adamant. No one can keep him safe. Lucas Trent is something else, a toy, an experiment, an object. He's not sure he can protect this boy, but he'll try.]

I won't let them turn you into me.

[That's the best he can do, and it still feels like a faulty promise. He pulls the boy along, hands lingering on him, refusing to let go.]

Nothing like that is gonna' happen, oi. Listen-- Lucas? I'm Noctis. [ A hurried introduction, anything to help calm him and ground them both as he twists in that duct. ]

If we're gonna' move fast then I need you to let go of me. Now, will you trust me enough to take the potion yet? It's gonna' help.

[Lucas Trent looks back at the boy-- Noctis. His name is Noctis. That feels... familiar, but he can't place it. It doesn't matter. So many things seem familiar, feel right, and yet the details slip through his fingers.]

[It makes him frustrated.]

[That's another weakness. He holds it back.] What will it do to me? [Those familiar with cornered animals may recognize the look in Lucas Trent's eyes. But he does let go of Noctis' hands.]

[ It's a small step but a significant one, never one to really initiate physical contact but he does rest a hand on his shoulder for a moment in an attempt to show gratitude. ]

Heal your wounds, for starters. Maybe give you some more energy if anything's internal. [ And that potion makes a quick resurgence as he holds it out in a gloved hand, quickly looking over his shoulder when he hears metal groan. ]

Here, break the glass. Hurry up; we need to keep moving, right?

[Lucas Trent has no doubt that it will heal him, but the how is what he needs to know. What will it feel like? What will be the cost? And after the 'healing' is over, what will he be left with?]

[But he hears the grind of decaying metal, and knows now isn't the time to argue. Besides, something about Noctis' eyes are just... terribly, horribly kind. Trustworthy? Lucas Trent wouldn't know; he doesn't remember seeing such a thing ever before.]

[But he wants to believe that's what trustworthiness looks like.]

[Already flinching back under Noctis' hand, he smashes the bottle with an aggressive fist. His hand goes right through it, knuckles digging into metal with strength that surprises him. He feels... better. His breathing is easier; his sight is sharper. It's easier to think.]

[Noctis was telling the truth. It didn't hurt.]

[So it's with the spirit of gratefulness that he pulls Noctis close, shoving him forward, in front of him in the cramped metal tunnel.] You go first, [he hisses,] be careful-- if it gives out under you, I might not be able to catch you in time.

[But he will. He will protect this boy, lost like him. He pushes him along, hastening them forward as silently as he's able through creaking, unstable metal and flaking rust.]

[ Another loud metallic sound ratchets up the tension in his frame as his mind tries to wrestle with how it should react to each new stimuli, thrown into a dream that his subconscious has no connection to. Should he be afraid? This boy's afraid, so logic says he should be too. The sense that something bad is coming is growing stronger and stronger, impossible to ignore.

But there's a brief moment of relief when Lucas does as he's asked to and heals himself finally, seeing his vision clear and his posture even minutely straighten and it makes him feel better. He nods, immediately. ]

Don't worry. If I fall, I'll get back to you no problem. [ That's one thing he's sure of; his magic hasn't let him down yet. So he continues to crawl forward, hand held up to halt them both each time there's a particularly violent shudder beneath them. ]

We're close... okay? I see some light down here. How are you holding up?

No- no! [It's a hushed stage whisper, but the excitement, the panic in Lucas Trent's voice is obvious.] Don't go near it. The surgery rooms are the only parts that they keep well lit.

[Greedy and scared, he tugs Noctis back until they're a bundle of limbs in the rusty shadows.] They're trying to flush us toward them.

[ A sound of frustration is caught behind his teeth as he's jerked back again, but not one directed at the traumatized boy he's sharing this vent with. Where are they supposed to go, then? ]

Okay... okay, breathe, alright? [ A hand grips Lucas's upper arm in what he means to be a reassuring hold, voice minutely more stern in that moment. ] I need you to stay--

[ Immediately he goes silent when he hears what sounds like metal dragging against metal from that lit area, a vicious dagger immediately manifested in his hand as the other moves to clap over Lucas's mouth. It's only when that noise ebbs that he lets go, exhaling. ] I can fight.

[More light, more sounds of crashing, crunching metal. It's like a giant hand has grasped around them, and is slowly closing as fingers break the metal. With each break, more light pours in.]

[Lucas Trent scoots closer to Noctis, aware of how pointless this situation is. He has none of the other boy's hope. An arm around his shoulder, he holds him close, and whispers in his ear,] Listen, I'll distract them, you run.

[This isn't a place where they can stand and fight, he knows it.]

[ Fear isn't something that he feels often. Whatever his other flaws might be Noctis has always been exceedingly brave (at least on the outside), unafraid of rushing into combat when he deems it necessary and perhaps a little too unworried about injury. Right now, though? The dream is weighing on him, heightening his anxiety with each protest of metal.

That arm weighs on him and normally he'd jerk away, but now-- ]

No. I'm not leaving you. I'm not doing that.

[Lucas Trent's face, already a mangled mess of blood and bruising, warps further into an ugly grimace. It hurts, but determination always does; that's what he's learned in this cramped and awful place.] No, [he growls, voice an echo of the deeper tones it'll reach in later life.] I'm not letting them hurt you. It's my fault you're here.

[He isn't sure how, or why, but with many things, the reasons and logic isn't always clear. He just knows it's true.]

[ What had his father told him? A king can't lead by looking backwards... something like that. He has to accept the consequences of his actions and keep moving forward, which he always knew as advice to make sacrifices where needed and not become consumed by them.

But he doesn't feel very much like a king, huddled here with a vulnerable and abused boy. ]

Listen to me. You can work with me or you can work against me, but I am not letting another person be my sacrifice. Now which way were you gonna' send me, 'cause we're going together.

[So he'll have to lie? Has he ever lied before? Will he be good at it? Lucas Trent doesn't know. Doesn't care. It doesn't matter. The walls continue to close in, and more and more blinding light surrounds them. Lucas Trent hefts himself behind Noctis, readying himself to spring--]

Run through the fingers. I'll follow you!

[And he throws the other boy with all his strength through the gap in the light.]

Wait--!

[ Words that fall on deaf ears as he's hoisted with as much ease as Gladio himself ever managed, a slight form whose weight isn't enough to combat that strength. It sends him hurtling forward into a hard fall against metal despite any efforts to cushion his own landing, grunting from the pain before he's just as quickly rolling himself over.

All he cares about is looking back despite the order, a hurried attempt to seek him out through a now overwhelming brightness that causes his heart rate to pick up. ]

Lucas! [ Knees bracing against flooring, he casts a quick glance over his shoulder... and then forces himself to move despite how every part of him tells him not to, finally running as directed. ]

[And Lucas Trent... stays where he is. Goes back to the aliens. Lets the cold and the fear envelop him. They only really want him, don't they? Noctis was just some kind of accident. Something about that just makes sense, and he doesn't question it.]

[And, a couple seconds later, Midnighter wakes in a quiet corner of the library, heart thumping in his chest, guilty and confused.]

[ Dread grows with each second that he hears no response until the inevitability of the situation threatens to crush him, just like that steadily encroaching light.

And when Noctis wakes it's with a sharp sit-up in his bed, breathing labored and eyes glassy. What... the fuck had that been? Who was that? To him it's no one he's ever known in the waking world and yet the dream had been so vivid, his attachment and fear so real.

He rests his forehead against his knees and he thinks about how he wants to go back. He wants to help the person that helped him. ]

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[OPEN] what kingly dreams

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