００３ 。 DREAM
Warnings: MORE FIRE. MORE DEATH.
Effects: Some genuine happiness, but mostly confusion and disorientation.
Bonjour, Heroes!
Agnes' voice signals your cue to get moving. Wild Tiger, much to her chagrin, has already gone on ahead - in this instance, you can't really blame him. The building is burning, and you have precious little time to get the people out.
But you want out, you want to be anywhere but here, and for a single, treacherous moment you almost flee, points be damned. Even through your power suit, the flames are too hot, too bright, too all-engulfing and you could be four years old again, watching your house burn --
but you're not four years old, you're a Hero, and you're not leaving until every single person in the place is outside, away from the flames and safe. You set off along the corridor, sprinting along the corridor your partner took. You need to catch up with him, need to coordinate the rescue mission for the most efficiency.
You can't see him up ahead, so you throw the door to a side room and - the only fires in here are the flickering lights of four candles in a birthday cake, a big one, with cream and strawberries. The people there don't notice you, don't even look up. The maid, the mother, the father - all of them beaming, bright, bright smiles. The father hands the blond haired boy a box, starry wrapping-paper tied with white ribbon. A present from him, he says.
"Wow!" The kid exclaims, eyes lighting up at the sight of it. He hugs it, as his father leans over to ruffle his hair. "Thank you!" -
The door slams shut. You try to wrench it open, but it's sealed tight, as if the handle is merely part of the wall. You keep running, and in a way, you want to put as much distance between yourself and that door as possible - what's happening to you? Is it the fire? You shouldn't be losing it like this, not on the job. Tape blocks your way - (but didn't Kotetsu come along here himself?) - and you rip it apart. Only when it sticks to your hands do you notice it says LET'S BELIEVE HEROES.
For a moment, all the flames flash blue -"Why do you bother with me?" You ask the empty, darkened room, the white and red banner wound over your hands. Let's Believe, the words emblazoned there read.
didntwanttoteamupwithyounointentionofaskingforyourhelpidonttrustyou
Let's Believe
You smile, just a little -
Footsteps faltering, you stumble. Something is happening to you, this place, your head - somewhere above you, wood gives a worrying groan and then there's a snap and you're rolling to avoid the sudden fall of debris. You have to keep it together, you're not going to fall apart from this.
So you get to your feet and you move. You need to find the old man, find the people - where are the people? have the other heroes worked that quickly? - trapped in here and get the hell out. Barely thinking, you activate your Hundred Power and launch into a sprint that sets the world around you blurring, flames distorted. The world becomes a mass of light and shadow and -- Kotetsu, gun in hand, turning to look at you through the fire -
- I'm sure your parents are sending you their blessings from the heavens -
- "Once more! Just once more!"
"We're going to protect you forever and ever" -
but none of the doors will open.
Even with your power up, even with your every move one hundred times stronger, you can't open a single damn one of them. You're running and you're lost and what the fuck is even going on anymore?
(and even as you run, part of you is utterly unsurprised. you adapt to this twisted dream logic because there's been so many dreams that you're almost, almost-but-never-quite, used to this by now.
you run.)
And with that logic you already know the door at the end of the hallway will open. And you know what you'll find there because this is a dream and you know you're dreaming and you know what your dreams always come to --
You stop just before the door, setting your shoulders, grounding yourself. You've seen this a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand times before in your dreams. You'll be ready for it, this time. (You tell yourself that, every time.)
The paint on the door is peeling from the heat, the handle almost glowing. But it's ajar. All you have to do is shove it open and reveal what's inside.
The sitting room. Your mother, slumped over on the couch. Your father, sprawled on the floor. The fire. The flames.
You fall on your knees and suddenly you're not in your power suit - of course you're not. You're only four years old and your hands are tiny and you look up and there, towering over you, is Jake Martinez. His face splits into a grin and you think, pleading, no, let me be an adult again, let me be a hero again, let me fight this time, but he just swaggers towards you and the fire glitters in his eyes --
"Well?"
His smile grows to grotesque proportions and then the darkness, the darkness is swallowing you up --
"How's it feel, kid?"
And then there's nothing. No fire. No murder.
Just the darkness, and you're falling --
Goodnight, Barnaby.
[There's no jolt to wakefulness, no sudden shot of Barnaby sitting upright in bed. In the darkness of his room one is just able to make him out, staring at the ceiling.
A few moments pass in silence and then he sucks in a breath. Only now does he remember the dreamberry - with an embittered 'tch' he reaches for it, and the feed is cut out.]
Effects: Some genuine happiness, but mostly confusion and disorientation.
Bonjour, Heroes!
Agnes' voice signals your cue to get moving. Wild Tiger, much to her chagrin, has already gone on ahead - in this instance, you can't really blame him. The building is burning, and you have precious little time to get the people out.
But you want out, you want to be anywhere but here, and for a single, treacherous moment you almost flee, points be damned. Even through your power suit, the flames are too hot, too bright, too all-engulfing and you could be four years old again, watching your house burn --
but you're not four years old, you're a Hero, and you're not leaving until every single person in the place is outside, away from the flames and safe. You set off along the corridor, sprinting along the corridor your partner took. You need to catch up with him, need to coordinate the rescue mission for the most efficiency.
You can't see him up ahead, so you throw the door to a side room and - the only fires in here are the flickering lights of four candles in a birthday cake, a big one, with cream and strawberries. The people there don't notice you, don't even look up. The maid, the mother, the father - all of them beaming, bright, bright smiles. The father hands the blond haired boy a box, starry wrapping-paper tied with white ribbon. A present from him, he says.
"Wow!" The kid exclaims, eyes lighting up at the sight of it. He hugs it, as his father leans over to ruffle his hair. "Thank you!" -
The door slams shut. You try to wrench it open, but it's sealed tight, as if the handle is merely part of the wall. You keep running, and in a way, you want to put as much distance between yourself and that door as possible - what's happening to you? Is it the fire? You shouldn't be losing it like this, not on the job. Tape blocks your way - (but didn't Kotetsu come along here himself?) - and you rip it apart. Only when it sticks to your hands do you notice it says LET'S BELIEVE HEROES.
For a moment, all the flames flash blue -"Why do you bother with me?" You ask the empty, darkened room, the white and red banner wound over your hands. Let's Believe, the words emblazoned there read.
didntwanttoteamupwithyounointentionofaskingforyourhelpidonttrustyou
Let's Believe
You smile, just a little -
Footsteps faltering, you stumble. Something is happening to you, this place, your head - somewhere above you, wood gives a worrying groan and then there's a snap and you're rolling to avoid the sudden fall of debris. You have to keep it together, you're not going to fall apart from this.
So you get to your feet and you move. You need to find the old man, find the people - where are the people? have the other heroes worked that quickly? - trapped in here and get the hell out. Barely thinking, you activate your Hundred Power and launch into a sprint that sets the world around you blurring, flames distorted. The world becomes a mass of light and shadow and -- Kotetsu, gun in hand, turning to look at you through the fire -
- I'm sure your parents are sending you their blessings from the heavens -
- "Once more! Just once more!"
"We're going to protect you forever and ever" -
but none of the doors will open.
Even with your power up, even with your every move one hundred times stronger, you can't open a single damn one of them. You're running and you're lost and what the fuck is even going on anymore?
(and even as you run, part of you is utterly unsurprised. you adapt to this twisted dream logic because there's been so many dreams that you're almost, almost-but-never-quite, used to this by now.
you run.)
And with that logic you already know the door at the end of the hallway will open. And you know what you'll find there because this is a dream and you know you're dreaming and you know what your dreams always come to --
You stop just before the door, setting your shoulders, grounding yourself. You've seen this a hundred, a thousand, a hundred thousand times before in your dreams. You'll be ready for it, this time. (You tell yourself that, every time.)
The paint on the door is peeling from the heat, the handle almost glowing. But it's ajar. All you have to do is shove it open and reveal what's inside.
The sitting room. Your mother, slumped over on the couch. Your father, sprawled on the floor. The fire. The flames.
You fall on your knees and suddenly you're not in your power suit - of course you're not. You're only four years old and your hands are tiny and you look up and there, towering over you, is Jake Martinez. His face splits into a grin and you think, pleading, no, let me be an adult again, let me be a hero again, let me fight this time, but he just swaggers towards you and the fire glitters in his eyes --
"Well?"
His smile grows to grotesque proportions and then the darkness, the darkness is swallowing you up --
"How's it feel, kid?"
And then there's nothing. No fire. No murder.
Just the darkness, and you're falling --
Goodnight, Barnaby.
[There's no jolt to wakefulness, no sudden shot of Barnaby sitting upright in bed. In the darkness of his room one is just able to make him out, staring at the ceiling.
A few moments pass in silence and then he sucks in a breath. Only now does he remember the dreamberry - with an embittered 'tch' he reaches for it, and the feed is cut out.]