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wildestlogs2021-10-31 08:54 pm
wildestmods) wrote in wildestlogs2021-10-31 08:54 pm
INTO THE WOODS ※ GAME EVENT
INTO THE WOODS
The faerie faire goes on into the evening, the faire filled with the sounds of revelry. For those who've spent the day there, the cool evening air is welcome respite from the bright sun that's shined all day. Those who still have some faerie gold might even want to invest in a cloak if they haven't gotten one yet, because it may get chillier as night falls.
As evening descends and various floating flowers start to glow to provide light, the spring faeries start to bring out night-time merchandise and amusements, like brightly-colored phosphorescent flower jewelry. Fireflies are charmed to blink in different colors and magical fireworks paint the sky in vibrant light. They're quieter than normal fireworks, but there are still satisfying snaps and hisses.
It seems like it'll be a pleasant night at the fair and those only just arriving in the evening will find a charming scene opening up before them.
But one thing that isn't noticed as evening begins to fall is the way the winter faeries suddenly slink away into the rising dark. Or at least it isn't noticed until it's too late. Some of the summer faeries start to react to it with alarm.
"Where did they go? The winter faeries are supposed to provide security, they signed an agreement. Go tell Ponto and get some faeries with warding magic to shore up the wards." Faeries start flying with purpose to speak to others that need to be put on security. "We can handle it ourselves but we need to get enough people out to the borders."
"Should we disperse the faire?"
"No, there's no sign of any threats and if we re-ward it, they'll be safer here than people scattering in the woods at night. Even if we had the bad luck to be attacked before the wards are re-done we can defend them with our magic - and we're contracted to."
Unfortunately that bad luck hits too soon. While the faeries scramble to re-do the defense wards, an unearthly fog rolls in. Terrible screeches start to rend the air, sounding similar to the screams of foxes. Warning bells ring from warning wards placed in certain areas of the woods.
"Nightrenders!" someone calls out and people in the crowd start screaming, gathering their loved ones closer. Horrifying beings start to pour into the faire and the hand stamps of all the people who bought tickets ahead of time start to glow. Faeries rally around those people, casting powerful defensive spells. Due to the panic, several stalls start to go up in flames due to knocked over cooking fires. Fortunately the stalls are small enough for people to escape them easily and spread far enough apart that they can be avoided, but smoke joins the fog in the air.
If a faerie sees one of the squad of otherworlders, and their lack of glowing hand stamp they're quick to offer a warning. "You have to run! The people who bought tickets ahead of time entered into a magical agreement of protection. The warding takes time to charge. We can do nothing for you, without slow-charge wards we're not powerful enough to protect you. The Nightrenders will devour your brain, or your soul."
Apparently that little disclaimer about not being fully protected that some of them read while coming in (for those that had arrived earlier in the day) was more important than it seemed.
The faeries always point the same way, still trying to help the people without tickets. "To the north! There's a place in a canyon with a large, glowing crystal. It looks like an abandoned market and dwellings. You'll be safe there, the magic of the Heartstone will protect you."
USEFUL LINKS
NIGHTRENDERS
The beings known as Nightrenders start amassing on the faire. Their movements are quick but clumsy, as if every one of their movements is made up of a hundred janky, smaller fits and starts, like they're made of clockwork. The faerie magic summer faeries use seems to do no more than stagger them back or temporarily knock them over, but at least makes it clear to the squad that they at least can be knocked over and slowed down. At the very least it seems to take them some time to get off the ground and back to their feet.
Attacks
They attack anyone they see in different ways. Some they wound with massive claws. Or they squeeze someone's torso and nearly suffocate them to give them a chance at possibly chomping into the heads of their victims to get at the brains. Most dangerously of all, they breathe in with a loud sucking noise, clawed hands guiding the magic that lets them drawn out someone's soul to devour it. It looks like a small delicate thing, sometimes in the form of a glittering star or a flower, as its drawn out of the victim's mouth.
This process can fortunately be interrupted if the Nightrender is attacked. As long as the soul hasn't been sucked into their mouths, it goes back into the victim.
Cursed Aura
But the whole thing is complicated by the magical aura caused by the Nightrenders. When they draw close, everyone around them is choked with fear, grief, and dread. Some succumb to visions of their worse memories playing out in their heads over and over. Some might be able to still stagger away in this state, trying to see through the visions, especially if someone helps them along, but others will find it nearly impossible to do anything other than curl on the ground. It is unknown why some don't have the flashbacks or can power through them more than others, though it's thought that those that repress their bad memories or negative emotions struggle more.
Anyone that helps someone who's having visions may get a glimpse of their memories - and empathically feel a flash of the pain, fear, rage, or grief they felt during the memory. If two people try to help each other move forward when both are having visions, they may transmit glimpses back and forth.
Weaknesses
The Nightrenders cannot be destroyed, only knocked down, or slowed down. However, those with "holy" weapons, spells, or powers, or those who have weapons, spells, or powers that can hurt "ethereal" beings or evil spirits will find they can cause them enough pain that sometimes they run away. Spells and abilities that create magical manifestations of good will and happiness, as well as spells of light, or purification can also harm them and drive them away.
THE SISTERS
The Nightrenders don't speak, but some have the misfortune of hearing two voices echo out of the fog. The come in stereo, only just slightly out of sync.
"Chosen Ones, you must be so confused. You've become lost in the forest, and the Dark Lord's nightmares already pursue you. Fortunately for you, our mistress desires your company. You'll adore obeying her will. Don't run, embrace a better destiny."
Two woman in white masks and straw hats, with cloaks made from the feathers of ravens, come out of the fog, body language almost identical. No eyes can be seen through the eyeholes of their masks, just darkness.
They start attacking, and when they beset their victims they stop speaking, refusing to talk or answer questions, instead filling the air with wild, mocking laughter. One wields twin katanas, the other a kusarigama with a painful claw at the end of the chain that closes down when it hits something.
Nets
While they're extremely willing to injure the squad they seem to be trying to capture them instead of killing (albeit capturing them after they're maimed), occasionally tossing out nets of glowing silver of moonlight. Being caught in the nets renders someone paralyzed and weak, a deep cold settling into the marrow of their bones. Some may even hear the shrieks of dying loved ones, whether they've actually died in reality or not. The Sisters apparently have the strength to carry even the largest of the squad in the air and will attempt to fly away when someone is ensnared.
The nets are difficult to destroy, but can be with great force of some kind. It has to be aimed at the part closest to the Sisters' hands, because the force required to break the nets would also injure those trapped inside them. The cold and paralysis fades when the victims are free, but some of the rescued may feel weak and need help staying on their feet. Unfortunately, even when they're broken, the nets of moonlight seem to be something they can recreate within several minutes.
Smoke Monsters
For some, they don't attack directly. Instead, one of the sisters pulls out a pipe and smoke monsters pour out of it. They try to drag their victims closer to the sisters so they can be caught in their nets. Fortunately, they can be destroyed with enough force.
While the Sisters seem impossible to injure, they can at least be caused pain with extreme enough attacks, something that makes them teleport away before risking any further injury.
PROMPTS
a) RENT
Uh oh, a Nightrender has you. Either it's squeezing you so hard you're suffocating and about to chomp into some juicy brains, or it's in the process of sucking your soul out through your mouth. In either case, you're likely broadcasting visions of your worst memories in small flashes to whoever is near. You're in desperate need of rescue and the summer faeries can't help - their magic is all but useless on the Nightrenders if it didn't have time to build by a covenant. Only others that fell into the Wilderlands like you did can save you.
(Feel free to provide multiple memory options ala a memshare, but keep in mind they'd only be flashes instead of a full memory!)
Uh oh, a Nightrender has you. Either it's squeezing you so hard you're suffocating and about to chomp into some juicy brains, or it's in the process of sucking your soul out through your mouth. In either case, you're likely broadcasting visions of your worst memories in small flashes to whoever is near. You're in desperate need of rescue and the summer faeries can't help - their magic is all but useless on the Nightrenders if it didn't have time to build by a covenant. Only others that fell into the Wilderlands like you did can save you.
(Feel free to provide multiple memory options ala a memshare, but keep in mind they'd only be flashes instead of a full memory!)
b) NABBED
The Sisters have got you, their smoke monsters are trying to drag you away, or you're still trying to fight them to avoid being caught. It'll be a lot easier if you have help - otherwise you're outnumbered and possibly outclassed. The only way to stop them is fight back hard enough that they feel you're not worth the effort and teleport off.
The Sisters have got you, their smoke monsters are trying to drag you away, or you're still trying to fight them to avoid being caught. It'll be a lot easier if you have help - otherwise you're outnumbered and possibly outclassed. The only way to stop them is fight back hard enough that they feel you're not worth the effort and teleport off.
c) RESCUE
Perhaps you're not affected by the Nightrenders or are just good at powering through the haze of painful magic they're inflicting on the area. Either way, you're out to help the people around you. Perhaps you run into another member of the otherworlder squad that needs saving - or maybe they join you to protect a third otherworlder, or a denizen of the Wilderlands that also forewent a ticket and is therefore at risk. Unlike many of the people from other universes, many of the denizens of the Wilderlands are powerless and thought they were in for a day and night of safe fun.
There are also other hazards to rescue people from. Maybe a small child has been separated from their parents and is disoriented by smoke, in need of rescued from some flaming tents. Or maybe an elderly person has fallen and is at risk of being trampled. There are lots of reasons people might need help, due to fires, panicked horses, collapsing tents, and panicking crowds.
Perhaps you're not affected by the Nightrenders or are just good at powering through the haze of painful magic they're inflicting on the area. Either way, you're out to help the people around you. Perhaps you run into another member of the otherworlder squad that needs saving - or maybe they join you to protect a third otherworlder, or a denizen of the Wilderlands that also forewent a ticket and is therefore at risk. Unlike many of the people from other universes, many of the denizens of the Wilderlands are powerless and thought they were in for a day and night of safe fun.
There are also other hazards to rescue people from. Maybe a small child has been separated from their parents and is disoriented by smoke, in need of rescued from some flaming tents. Or maybe an elderly person has fallen and is at risk of being trampled. There are lots of reasons people might need help, due to fires, panicked horses, collapsing tents, and panicking crowds.
d) RUN
It's time to run! Perhaps, after some screaming and confusion - and teleportation - you finally grab a buddy and bolt through the woods. You better run fast because the Nightrenders and the Sisters may give up chase at some point but it may take time and moving through difficult terrain in the fog to lose them. Perhaps you and a partner have to help a third, injured otherworlder because they're having trouble walking.
Better head north like the faeries said. The faeries were right that this Heartstone to the north may be your only hope - and you'll have to reach it despite the fading evening light, skies overcast with dark clouds, and fog.
It may be easier navigating in the dark with a partner or two.
It's time to run! Perhaps, after some screaming and confusion - and teleportation - you finally grab a buddy and bolt through the woods. You better run fast because the Nightrenders and the Sisters may give up chase at some point but it may take time and moving through difficult terrain in the fog to lose them. Perhaps you and a partner have to help a third, injured otherworlder because they're having trouble walking.
Better head north like the faeries said. The faeries were right that this Heartstone to the north may be your only hope - and you'll have to reach it despite the fading evening light, skies overcast with dark clouds, and fog.
It may be easier navigating in the dark with a partner or two.
e) WILDCARD
Maybe you decide to do none of the above. Go nuts!
Maybe you decide to do none of the above. Go nuts!
❧ Quest magic: Players can handwave that the quest bond magic is tugging the group northward to the safe place, with the mysterious Heartstone. They can also use the quest magic as an excuse for many different threads. As the group tries to run, their scattering movements will affect the magic and cause people to teleport at random, allowing for many different encounters with many other characters. This can explain why two characters that might otherwise stay together through the whole thing might get separated.
❧ Network: The network can now be used. Mirrors can and do float if someone is trying to talk through one and running, and can follow someone as they move, allowing people to communicate on the go or during action. Feel free to start using the network in parallel with the log events.
❧ NPCing: The mods won't be npcing but players are free to npc the actions of bystanders, the Nightrenders, and the Sisters. The Sisters won't speak, just continue laughing, and players can npc their specific attacks, capture attempts, and teleportation. Please just don't have them talk or godmode them dying - they're currently a little too sturdy for that. If you have a question about whether/how something will affect them feel free to ask the mods in the first comment below.
❧ Environment: Feel free to manipulate the environment. There are things left over from the faire people can work with like bow and arrow sets from the competition, horses (which can be temporarily stolen, though we'd like to limit any that are permanently stolen to the (1) horse another player already requested), and even explosive faerie fireworks (they're quieter than the normal thing but still create a big bang). Abandoned stalls also have weapons and supplies to grab as people run for it. If they didn't think to steal or buy useful things during the day, please limit this to only grabbing one or two items as they run, like a cloak or sword. They won't have time to loot for more.
❧ Experimentation: We'd like to encourage people to experiment! Obviously ask other players if they're down first, but it could be fun to do something other than 2 person threads, like maybe 2 PCs banding to rescuing a 3rd. Players are also encouraged to set limitations if they think it'd be more interesting, like locking their final escape prompt from the faire grounds to a single thread partner and playing out the drama of a full escape.
[OOC: Plot is visible so people can see and start plotting together but not open until Nov. 1. The mods will enable comments then.]
no subject
"Dean Winchester?" Dan's voice is quiet, rarely gets above a speaking tone, but he raises it as much as he can as he brings the horse around and sees a young man beset by a pack of nightrenders, all of them squabbling with both the man and each other to try and get the little star of a soul that's being coaxed from the man's mouth.
It's the flash of memory that does it; Dan's seen this fight before, from Sam's perspective. He knows who this kid is, how brave.
Dan charges the nightrenders and forces his horse to rear over them, hooves flailing, while he fires off an arrow. It's enough to buy time for the little star to go back into Dean's mouth; not enough to keep Dan from getting a snatch of a four year-old boy carrying a baby.
Dan was four years old when his little brother was born. He thought that baby was heavy too.
no subject
He scrambles onto his feet, stumbling away from the creatures, and looks at his apparent rescuer (which he resents, for the record).
He kind of reminds Dean of a young Clint Eastwood, with how good he's making horse riding look, Dean will admit to that much. Dean would be lying if he said that he didn't have fantasies that played out like this.
"What the hell are those things?" he asks the-- cowboy? No, not a cowboy, cowboys need hats, and cowboy boots. This guy is wearing hiking boots and no has hat whatsoever.
His attentions snaps back to the monsters when one starts approaching again, approaching him like a fucked up Bicentennial Man
His hand instinctively goes for his gun before he remembers that it's gone.
no subject
"No idea, but they get in your head." Dan turns the horse around and puts a small amount of distance between him and the pack of nighthunters. "You know how to ride?"
Dan handles the horse like he was born riding, which he practically was; his father had him perched on the horse when he was still in diapers, had him firing guns not that soon afterwards.
"We can't kill them, far as I can tell. Just slow them down." He reaches a hand out for Dean. "If I steer, can you fire a bow for cover?"
He suspects Dean can. Sam mentioned bowhunting once.
cw: internalized homophobia
"I'm your huckleberry," he says with a grin, and takes Dan's hand.
He would normally bitch about being helped up, but he's still a bit unsteady on his feet and this is about to be the coolest thing he's done, ever.
Dean sits astride the horse behind Dan. It takes him a minute to adjust, but he quickly realizes how pointless it is to try to keep some distance between them.
They're just two dudes riding on a horse together, which is just about the coolest, manliest thing a guy can do. So what if it's more comfortable to be somewhat pressed against this guys back? Doing any differently could affect how he shoots, and he needs to be on his A-game.
no subject
What Dean may notice is that Dan isn't taking them out of the fight; he's making a calculated guess, based on Sam's stories, that Dean's one of those people who rush into fights and don't leave if there's someone still to save. Dan's rushing them into the fight.
"Keep an eye out for anyone." Dan slows as they go through a particularly foggy section, not necessarily to avoid running the horse into anything but so they can hear and see any fair goers who might have been hiding or wounded. "I know your brother."
CW: references to child abuse and alcoholism
It feels great, too. Dean hasn't gone into a fight with a partner in-- probably since before Same left. Sure, he and Dad have teamed up a few times, but that wasn't the same. It Dean was there to watch Dad's back, not the other way around.
Between the satisfying burn in his arms from firing the bow, the rush of adrenaline from running into danger, and the heat from being pressed up against another person without any agenda or intentions, Dean is laughing and whooping in victory after particularly impressive shots.
Then he hears the guy mention Sam.
It's good that he wasn't taking a shot at the time, because he would've in a very embarrassing way. As it was, he almost dropped the bow.
--Dean coming back from the arcade to see the shtriga looming over Sammy's unconscious body--
--Panic coursing through him whenever Dad got pissed and sent him away for a couple of weeks--
--Pushing Sam away from Dad during one of their fights, trying to get them both to calm down. Sam getting pissed at Dean instead, thinking he's siding against him. Dean had only shoved Sam because there's no way he'd get away with doing that to their Dad, and someone needed to separate them before Dad gets pissed enough to take a swing--
--Dropping Sam off at the bus stop and knowing that John may not let him see his baby brother anytime soon. Dean's still ticked off that Sam didn't even tell him what he was planning, that he's leaving Dean behind with Dad. He wants to ask if he can come, but he can't. He can't abandon Dad like that; he can't abandon the job like that.
Dean gives him all the cash he has on hand, even though he knows that Dad is going to blow the rest at some bar trying to forget about his youngest son--
"What?" he chokes out.
no subject
"Your brother Sam. We're friends." Sam taught Dan how to sign his name, politely ignored when Dan would stay awake until the early hours of morning when they lived together, learned some of the Common Tongue Dan can speak because of all that intellectual curiosity. Dan can call Sam a friend, but he can also see that this topic of conversation is distracting Dean.
"Whoa, girl. Good girl." Once they seem somewhere safe, Dan stops the horse and asks Dean: "did you hear that? I thought I heard someone about ten feet yonder. Or something."
no subject
Maybe he's part of whatever got him here in the first place. This flash-back stuff could be this guy digging through his head, his memories. That could be how he knows about Sammy, because as far as Dean knows, Sam has stayed as far away from any and all supernatural shit since he left. There's no way this guy knows Sam.
Dean doesn't act yet. He doesn't want to let on that he's getting wise to this game. When he stops the horse, Dean just stays sitting and listens to him speak.
(He will say, evil or not, the accent is pretty cool. If Dean was a chick he'd be all over this dude.)
Now that he's listening, he does hear something.
"Me too," he says in response. He waits for the other man to make the first move.
[cw: child death, jail, alcohol abuse]
-"why are you praying? How could you be praying?" a dark-haired teenage girl with the same blue eyes as Dan, drenched in blood and garbed in stained, old clothing, yells at another girl of similar visage- "Your brother just got- he got- he got flayed alive, his skin ripped off, and you're praying? We're covered in blood-" before she falls to her skinny knees and buries her face in her hands- "there's no God-"-
-Dan's pacing in a cell, dressed in orange, hands cuffed in the front, while a corrections officer idly tosses little pieces of a sandwich at him like he's a caged animal, the officer laughing when Dan asks "please, I want to use my one phone call, my daughter needs to know I didn't just abandon her-"
-"what the fuck were you thinking?" an older man asks as he pulls Dan from the wreckage of where a car crashed into a house, dragging him across a ruined front porch, "oh my god, are you drunk?"-
Dan takes a deep breath and tries to move through it, thinking of the fog, the smoke, Dean at his back, everything in the here and now. Here. Now. Not there and then.
"I'm going to get the horse closer. Be ready to shoot if it's hostile, hold if it ain't." He knows many people who are great at the first and terrible at the latter. "Seen a few kids curled up under upturned carts and the like here."
Re: [cw: child neglect, jail, mentions of alcoholism, underage drinking, vomiting, self-hatred]
His theory about Dan being involved with all of this is seeming much less likely, but that doesn't explain how he thinks he knows Sam. He supposes that explanations can wait.
"I've got it," he says, his voice more serious than before.
-"Angels are watching over you," Mom tells him every night, without fail. After the fire he spends every night mouthing silent prayers to those angels, begging for them to bring her back. To make Dad himself again. To take care of Sammy.-
-Sitting in the police station, scared and humiliated and hungry. He needs to get out of here. He needs to get back to Sam. He feels like such an idiot for getting caught. He's shoplifted dozens of times before without a problem, but he hasn't eaten in a couple days and he can't keep his hands from shaking. When they finally get ahold of Dad, he tells them to let Dean rot in jail and Dean doesn't think he's ever felt more worthless in his entire life.-
-Dean was fourteen the first time he got drunk. Dad was gone and Sammy was asleep and Dean was sitting in the shitty motel room feeling like he was going to suffocate if he didn't do something, anything. Dad had left a six-pack in the mini fridge. He knew it was a bad idea, but he was desperate so he did it anyway.
He doesn't remember a lot about that night, but he does remember waking up the next morning feeling like hell and smelling like Dad does when he spends too much time at the bar. Dean pukes because of the pain and the poison in his gut, and then more because of how fucking disgusted he is with himself.-
The flashes feel more distant, now, like they're happening to someone else entirely. His body and his mind feel separated in a way that allows him to notch an arrow, even as the memories play in his head.
lmao we just need to content warning this whole thread
But Dan figures the best way to soothe Dean is not to shower him with the care that should have been given freely to him as a child, but instead to focus on the task at hand, pushing through the memories clawing at the both of them. Thinking instead of how to move the horse quietly, how to sneak up on the source of the sound, how to hold himself so Dean gets a clear shot.
-a woman is crucified to a cement wall with what appear to be her own ribs; Dan's a teenager and the younger kid in his arms is screaming as Dan covers the boy's eyes and says "don't look, don't look"-
-Dan not long ago, if the angles of his face are to be trusted, in a hotel room with another man, red-faced and in tears, as the other man says "I don't know why you love me at all"-
-"are you going to do a funeral for her, or...?" the older man from the other memory asks Dan, who's staring blankly past him, while another man snarks "just don't ask him to come up with the engraving on the headstones, this isn't Ancient Egypt, we don't still use pictograms in this society..."-
Dan's glad Dean's the one with the bow at this moment, because his own hands are shaking. He stops the horse, peers.
"Lower the bow. It's a person." He's taking the lead because he's older, and because he's the one with the horse, and because he's been here forty-eight hours already compared to however long Dean's been here. He brings the horse closer and sees the body, some faire goer attacked by...something or other, unconscious, gurgling on spit and blood in the fog.
"Three on Concrete Blonde is too heavy. We'll have to walk her back." Dan crouches over the wounded person, does a once over, takes a pulse. It looks like a head injury, and there isn't much one can do in the field about that with no medical equipment, just get her away from the action. "Help me support her head while we get her on the horse."
[cw: dissociation, child abuse]
Dean doesn't think as he obeys Dan's orders. He follows when Dan gets off the horse. He walks over as Dan walks over. He looks down at the injured woman and thinks, of the two of them, she might be the one who's better off.
He takes a moment before registering that he's supposed to be doing something. He kneels down and cradles her head. The blood is sticky and warm. Dean's body feels far away as he helps to lift her. Everything feels far away, except where his hands meet the woman's body; where they brush against Dan's. They're both feel like living, breathing things where Dean... doesn't.
The tips of Dean's fingers are raw, almost bleeding. He's been disassembling and reassembling Dad's M1911 for the last hour. Every time he makes a mistake, Dad tells him to start over. His fingers are fumbling more as time goes on, he just can't seem to make them work right. He feels stupid and clumsy and he wants to cry, but he knows that would just make things worse.
Why can't he do anything right?
Dean returns to the present, helping Dad carry the corpse to the Impala so they can dispose of the body far away from the crime scene-
No, he's with Dan and the horse and he's helping carry an injured civilian so they can get her to safety.
He has to stay grounded enough that he can still help. If he acts too slowly it could be any of their death sentence. What use is he if he can't help these people?
no subject
Dan - Danny, as he was going by then, the tender age of seven - is crouched down waiting for his father, a mustached man in blue jeans that have been patched and stitched in about forty different places, to hit a stopwatch. When the stopwatch goes, Danny starts to pick apart the metal box and wires in front of him, biting his lip as he treats it all with the most intense concentration. His dad is crouched with him, giving Danny small corrections, until, at last Danny has defused a live landmine.
The difference is that when Dan's dad looks at the work Danny's done, he brings his son into a tight hug and kisses the crown of his head with an ain't no father alive so proud of his son as I am.
It steadies Dan. It's not a horrible memory, and as much as Dan doesn't like to think about his family, he thinks often of his father when he's in the field. And Dan's generally good at keeping it together when someone else is relying on it, so he's keeping it together.
Because Dean doesn't look well at all. Dan keeps his voice practical. Often when people are as spaced out as Dean looks, giving them simple directions is a kindness. "Alright, you get up on the horse and keep her head steady, keep her from falling off, and I'll take Concrete Blonde by the reins and guide her towards north. You keep an eye out and be ready to shoot an arrow off, you'll have a much better vantage point than me."
He's significantly shorter than Dean, but he holds a hand out to held Dean atop the horse anyway. "Let me know immediately if you feel lightheaded. The smoke and fog's a lot."
Dan knows it's more likely to be the shock of the memories if Dean stops functioning on him, but it's nice to provide the cover.
Wild Horses (I'm naming all of Dean's threads after song titles and no one can stop me)
The feeling of pride and comfort Dan felt when his Dad praised him hurts just as much, if not more, than the worst memories he's experienced tonight.
He lets Dan help him up onto the horse once and helps the injured woman stay balanced. He knocks another arrow and waits for Dan to start guiding the horse.
Dean and Lee are trying to keep quiet, but they can't stop snickering as they sneak out of the motel they've been staying in. They keep shushing each other, then breaking out in muffled laughter again.
Dean feels giddy and on top of the world. He rarely does shit like this when Dad's around, but Lee had snuck into their motel room and woken him up, and Dean couldn't tell him no.
It's so rare that Dean gets a night for himself. Sammy is staying with Bobby and their Dads are asleep-- Dean is beholden to nothing and no one. The warm night air feels like freedom.
No.
No, absolutely not.
Dean can deal with the shitty memories, he sees them every time he closes his eyes. They play through his mind during every free moment he gets. He can never truly escape them.
But this is the shit he doesn't let himself think about. All of the times he was away from Dad or Sammy; the few times he got a taste of what life was like outside the job and out from under Dad's thumb.
He'd relive his own personal hell a hundred times over before he would be willing to give a second thought to what he's left behind.
I would never try to stop you, ever
The unconscious woman is bleeding pretty badly, so Dan tries to move the horse quickly, navigating through the fog in a vague northwards direction. The further they get from the center of the action, the less clear the memories are, the less overwhelming.
"Tell me how you got here," Dan says, trying to keep Dean talking. Dean can't be alert and ready to spring into action if he's zoning out.
Re: Wild Horses
Robin showing him how to properly position his clumsy fingers on the guitar frets. She's sitting close enough that he can feel her body heat. She talks to him with a patience and kindness that makes him want to run as far away from her as he can.
He suppresses a flinch. The phantom of her soft hands against his own calloused ones makes his him wants to scratch at his skin until he can't feel it anymore. He ignores and keeps his hands steady where he's pressing against the woman's wounds.
Dan asks Dean how he got here, but Dean isn't sure it's safe to tell him that he's completely lost. On one hand, Dan might be able to tell him where they are, but on the other that puts Dean in a much more vulnerable position.
"I was camping with a friend, but uh-" he puts on a tone of sheepishness, "-I got completely lost. I'd been wandering for hours when I heard shouting."
There, that was a believable enough story.
"How about you, you from around here?"
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“Woke up here after hearing some voices tell me I got to save the world or something. You know. Boring hero business.” He gives Dean a friendly smile. He does not say what he wants to, which is you play guitar? I play piano. “Your friend someone who can look out for themselves?”
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"Yeah, he'll be fine. He's probably gone back into town to call search & rescue, or something. Maybe they'll eve bring in a helicopter."
He doesn't comment on the voices thing, but he certainly notes it. He's pretty sure he heard voices saying similar things when he woke up, too. Maybe it's a Battle Royale situation and they've been dropped in the middle of nowhere to duke it out with those monsters.
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The unconscious woman on the horse coughs and blood dribbles down her chin. Dan stops the horse, looking concerned but not too concerned to keep making chit-chat.
“Anyway, I was asking in case we needed to keep an eye out and go back in to find him.” A lie; he was asking to keep Dean thinking about how to lie to Dan instead of whatever sorrow was gripping him. Dan gets on his tiptoes to look the woman over, see if that blood is internal bleeding or a cut in her mouth and determines it’s the latter. Still. When he gets the horse going again, it’s at a faster trot.
“So, I’m going to need you to keep an open mind, but I think time travel is involved here. You were a lot older when I knew Sam.”
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Dean has absolutely no interest in getting in any flying metal death machine, thank you very much.
When the woman coughs, he moves one arm to support her neck more.
He stiffens when Dan brings up Sam again.
"You wanna run that by me again?" his demeanor went from vague friendliness to deadly seriousness in a split second. There's a definite warning in his tone.
His hand itches to reach for his Colt but there's nothing for him to grab.
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Dan, in contrast to Dean, keeps that vague friendliness as if he doesn't even notice Dean's implied threat. He does notice, of course. And he's aware that Dean's holding the bow, and Dan has no weapon besides a knife tucked into his boot.
"He's a good guy. Taught me how to do a signature. Okay, lean her head forward a little so she don't inhale any of that blood. Her lip's real shredded."
There, a break in the fog, and Dan can see the lights where the faire goers have been escaping towards north.
"So I...so me and a few other folks, we seem to keep getting tugged into different worlds or different times or something. And that's how I know Sam."
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But even if this guy's on something, that doesn't account for him knowing Sam. Maybe from Dean's memories?
Dean is beginning to feel less and less comfortable riding this horse next to this guy, but he isn't willing to leave the injured girl. He's just gonna have to stick it out.
He readjusts the woman's head and makes sure to keep Dan within his range of vision. If this guy's unstable, who knows what he's capable of.
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He can see how tetchy Dean's getting, though, how poorly Dean's receiving I'm a time traveler.
"You know, if you want to keep that arrow aimed at me the whole time, you can. I won't be doing nothing to convince you to fire it." He shrugs, urging the horse a little faster now that safety for the unconscious woman is near. "But it'll make it harder to keep an eye out for those creatures that got into our heads."
And just like that, one of those creatures must be getting close, because one of Dan's memories surfaces.
Dan is in a bunk bed in a room that looks something like a cell, grabbing a bottle of alcohol that someone's passing him from the bottom bunk, and then it's Sam's voice: "I think I got more shit for my height than anything else, at least the first year."
“That’s what you get for being nine feet tall, you titan.” Dan laughs.
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Seeing Sam like that almost knocks Dean clean off of the horse and onto his ass.
Even a year later, Dean still wakes up smelling smoke. He looks around in a panic to see Dad sleeping on top of the covers on the other bed, sprawled out in a way that means he fell asleep drinking again.
The room is silent except for Dad's light snores, Sammy gurgling in his sleep, and Dean's own deafening heartbeat.
His blankets feel heavy as he pushes them away. He does his best not to wake Dad, but he can't stay in bed. If he stays in bad, something bad will happen to baby Sammy, just like what happened to Mom.
Dean crawls over to where the crib they got from the motel is sitting at the foot of his bed. It looks like Sammy's dreaming about something from the way from limbs jerk around.
Dean feels better now that he can see Sammy, but he still has that terrible panic rising inside of him. He knows that Sammy is going to get hurt, or burn, just like Mom if Dean doesn't take care of him. So Dean climbs over the railing and curls up around his baby brother.
"Angels are watching over you," Dean silently promises, just like Mom told him.
Maybe this time if the monsters come, they'll take Dean instead.
It takes him a moment to regain any semblance of composure.
"I hate this," he says, voice thick with emotion. "I really fucking hate this."
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"I know. I hate it too. The only reason I'm keeping it more together than you are is because I been through this before." He takes a deep breath. "Every time I think about the things they're rifling through in my head, I just want to throw up."
Dan suspects that their memories are going in tandem, because the next ones from him are similar to Dean's. Dan - Danny - is six years old with a gun on his hip, helping his toddler little brother walk across the room, coaxing him with slices of candied sweet potato. Danny's mom is breastfeeding two infants; his sister, around his age, is plunking away at an upright piano, a rudimentary version of "A Little Night Music."
The toddler trips on his way to the sweet potato and starts bawling. Danny's mother moves to get up, but Danny rushes to his little brother's side first.
"Eli, Eli, it's okay." Danny pulls his little brother into his arms, letting Eli babble snotty toddler gibberish into his arms. "You ain't hurt. Ain't nothing on you hurt. See?"
Danny gestures with his hand around his little brother's whole body as if waving a magic wand. "All better."
"All better?" Eli asks.
"Yeah." Danny wipes away Eli's tears. "Here's a sweet potato anyway."
"I don't know how you're so good at that, Danny," Danny's sister says. "Mom, why is Danny so good at-"
And then the memory is, mercifully, gone. Dan brings the horse in to a little alcove, helping Dean unload the unconscious woman as he sees some of the escaping faire goers running over to collect her. A man's calling her name, a family member, maybe, or a spouse.
Dan looks over at Dean. "What do you say, do I leave you here to hand her off or do you come back out there with me looking for folks in peril?"
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