>>3106367
>Ask James what the fuck is going on.

Welcome back OP.
>>3106367
>Ask James what the fuck is going on.

>>3106367
>Ask James what the fuck is going on.

>>3106439
>>3106382
>>3106420
"James, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask the question especially loud, cutting through the morning quiet with the curse. James looks up from what he was doing, a terrified Jennifer relaxing slightly. Her face looks like she'd been crying, what you can see of it. "Because it looks like you're abusing one of my friends."

"Naw, naw." James puts his hands in his pockets and leans back. "We were just, uh..." his eyes fall on the destroyed lunch. "See, ah, Vinny here, he bumped into her."
"Yeah." Vinny nods.
"And, uh, Timmy, he says we should apologize. A kind soul, Timmy."
"Ayup." Timmy says.
"So we wanted to make sure she wouldn't run off, bein' so squirrely an' all. So I have Vinny get ahead of her. And Timmy got behind her. And here we are. See, just, uh, just a big misunderstanding."
"Then you mind telling me why you all got knives in your pockets, Jimmy?" you ask, approaching. "See, what I can see is that - since you never take weapons to school, on account of not being a violent asshole, you wanted to jump Jennifer since she always waits for me here. Then you'd ditch the switchblades before classes. God only knows what you'd do if I didn't get here."

The three teens begin to advance on you, hands in pockets where you'd seen the switchblades.
"Izzat so, Clarke?" James asks. "Maybe we should do a little demonstration. Show you proper, send you home."

>James, this isn't like you. Knock it off and give Jennifer money for lunch. Let's all walk away from this unharmed.
>Are you sure you want to do this, man?
>[Flee and pull Jennifer along]
>[Write in]

>>3106494
>James, this isn't like you. Knock it off and give Jennifer money for lunch. Let's all walk away from this unharmed.
I feel like James might be under some serious pressure from Beatrice. He might be a bit of a jackass, but I can't just see him pulling switchblades out for the hell of it.
We should at least give him an out, or the chance to ask for help in dealing with her. He's in a pretty rotten situation, stuck between the two big powers of the school.

>>3106554
"James, this isn't like you. Knock it off, give Jennifer some money for lunch. Let's all walk away unharmed, okay?"
"You little shit, as if you can-"
"That's enough, James."
You turn around to the new voice - It's Carl. He's an imposing figure - easily six feet tall if not more, with a wide berth thanks to his shotput training, which is all core muscles and upper body strength. "You don't need to go that far. I'll tell her you did your part, run along."

James sneers at him, then backs off and runs away while Carl sighs. "Sorry you had to deal with that, Jenny." he says. His wallet is out, and he hands her a bill. "Give me and Clarke a moment, alright?" he snaps shut the wallet, and turns to face you. "We both know why you're here." he stuffs his hands into his pockets. Jennifer half flees, half walks away.
"I challenge you, Nanashi Clarke, to stand with me and Beatrice." he says evenly. "To be settled in the Dream."
"..." A deep breath. "And I challenge you to renew your old vows with me." you say softly.

There's a long pause.
"...Naturally." the two of you shake hands. He rubs his face. "...Look. If James gives you more trouble, give me a call. There's listening to your superiors and there's being a jackass," his tone makes his implication clear, "And the less Jenny is hurt, the better."

>"Then you know I'll ask why things are like this."
>"...A hell of a thing to say, Carl, with how things are."
>"Thanks for the assist. But it's better we stay distant until this is resolved."
>[write in]

>>3106709
>"Then you know I'll ask why things are like this."

>>3106709
>"Then you know I'll ask why things are like this."

He seems almost like he himself doesn't have a choice in this matter, or at the very least, doesn't like how it's all being done. Meams he might at least hint at stuff for us.

>>3106709
>"Then you know I'll ask why things are like this."

>>3106772
>>3106737
>>3106799

"Then you know I'll ask why things are like this."
"..." Carl looks at you in contemplation. "How to put it... You know that saying about cats knowing they are sitting next to Buddha?" he asks. "Imagine if you took one look at someone and knew them to be evil. Like, actually evil, completely without any sort of redeeming qualities. And you were the only thing moderating them away from some horrible, horrible act. And when you try to leave, even contemplate it - your head explodes in pain."

He meets your eyes.
"That's why it's like this." he says. "And that's why, for letting things get this far, I'm still angry at the you from before. But that's not who you are now. You're someone else. See you later, Clarke." he lumbers away, bracing himself against the chill. He waves over his shoulder as he heads to the doors and you make your way in. This is all so heavy. You sit down to lunch with a heavy heart. Jennifer sits opposite you and meets your eyes sheepishly.

"Thanks for before." she says.
"For... not letting you get beaten over my bullshit?" you raise an eyebrow. "No need to thank me. Really, I shouldn't have lost my composure yesterday."
"Mmmn." she stares at the money Carl gave her - two twenties and a ten. "Uh. Wanna... go get something to eat, or something?" she asks with a sigh.

>"Sure, why not. I know a place."
>"I feel like skipping today. My head's not on straight. Wanna come with?"
>[write in]

>>3106845
>"Sure, why not. I know a place."

>>3106845
>"I feel like skipping today. My head's not on straight. Wanna come with?"

>>3106845
>"Sure, why not. I know a place."

>>3106910
>>3107130
"Sure, why not, I know a place." you say, rising. You need to get your head screwed on straight, so to speak, and some time with Jennifer seems just the thing. You have a noted freedom most of the other kids don't - abscences aren't forwarded to your parents. Mostly because they are so hard to reach. You know how to contact them, of course, but they don't bother telling the school how, assuming correctly that you keep yourself mostly in line. The place you referred to is a small-town burger joint you personally enjoy. It's close enough to the school that many students go there during lunch and often work there during the summer.

"Oh, this place." Jennifer blinks at it. "Weird that you don't recall taking me here, it has nothing to do with the Dream." she sounds a little distantly saddened by this revelation, and indeed you can't recall ever taking her here yourself. The place feels very old-fashioned-dinery, comfortable and warm. Homey, even, a little kitsch. The two of you order some simple burgers and shakes,
I told you not to get the Big One, now look at this mess. We might need to get you a new coat.
and your head throbs a little. You rub your temples by reflex and her head tilts.

"Headache?"
"...Yeah. Whenever I start to remember something." you sigh, leaning back in the chair as Jennifer frowns. There seems to be something on her mind, but she can't bring herself to say it. She looks around, seeing no one from the school here, and lowers her hood and scarf. Her face - not something you see of all that often, in fact - is almost exactly like it is in the Dream. It's not perfect like Beatrice's, but her bright orange hair and freckles lend it a sort of charm, and her bright green eyes make you blink. You're used to catching glimpses of them, but they're more intense than you remember.
"So... Do you remember this?"

I got bullied a lot in elementary. Hiding became a habit.

You excuse yourself as your head pounds even harder, needing to slip into the bathroom to ride out the wave of pain. It's only once it subsides that you realise how rude you were.

>Return to Jennifer and apologize. That couldn't have been the reaction she wanted.
>Try to play it off as a legit need to use the bathroom.
>Try to play it charming - you needed time to gather up a proper compliment.
>[Write in]

>>3106845
So is this morning or lunchtime? Was there a timeskip that I didn't notice?

>>3107926
>Return to Jennifer and apologize. That couldn't have been the reaction she wanted.

>>3107944
Sorry it wasn't clear: I skipped over morning classes and right to lunch period in the space of a single sentence.

>>3107926
>Return to Jennifer and apologize. That couldn't have been the reaction she wanted.

>>3107926
>Return to Jennifer and apologize. That couldn't have been the reaction she wanted.

Beatrice probably had a priority on certain memories over others. This is probably the backlash for 'breaking' the wager outside of a proper dream, and for trying to access the memories that Beatrice wanted most hidden.

>>3108019
>>3107946
>>3108083
You hurry back to your table to see the food has arrived. She's kept her hood down and set aside the scarf, looking nervous. But... It's not a bad look for her, really. Sitting down, you can't help but sigh.
"Jennifer, I'm sorry. I know that was a big thing for you to do, and that's not a great reaction." you say. "Every time I try to get at those memories I lost, it's really painful. Apparently that one was a doozy. But the pain is gone now." a smile creeps across your face, "And I think I can see why Beatrice was so jealous."
Jennifer can't help but smile back, and the two of you dig into your meals. The taste wipes away the fear and trepidation you had been feeling before. Removing Carl from Beatrice's ranks will be satisfying and a hard blow to both her effectiveness and her pride, and with everything that's happened, a feeling of malice towards her is unavoidable.

Finishing off the meal, you lean back to look at the cieling. Was that really why it happaned? Beatrice got jealous and so did all this? It's a nice roundabout compliment, but you're almost certain it's not the case. It'd be too easy to just do things differently, given what you know of her apparent lack of ethics and her seeming desires. Plus... She hasn't even contacted you. Wouldn't now be a prime time, if that was the goal? Especially since it'd be so easy to cast doubt on your friends. Either Beatrice is incompetent, or her aim is something else entirely...

>Ssssso. Who all was in our club? That might be a good starting point after Carl and James.
>Mask clearly wasn't in our club, do you have any idea who he might be?
>Once we handle Carl and James, what's stopping us from doing something here in the real about Beatrice?
>Did all the club members make oaths to me?
>[write in]

>>3108097
>Ssssso. Who all was in our club? That might be a good starting point after Carl and James.
>Did all the club members make oaths to me?
>Mask clearly wasn't in our club, do you have any idea who he might be?

>>3108097
>Ssssso. Who all was in our club? That might be a good starting point after Carl and James.
>Once we handle Carl and James, what's stopping us from doing something here in the real about Beatrice?

>>3108100
>>3108119
"So who was in our club? Might want to make plans for after Carl and James. Clearly Mask isn't part of it."
"...How could you tell?"
You find yourself shrugging, looking out the window.
"Just the way he talks, mostly. Seems a little distant to be a friend. And he uses a voice modulator - there'd be no point to that if we knew who they were, right?"
"Fair enough. Let's see..." she rattles off a series of names you mostly don't remember, but one sticks out.
"Richard was part of the club? Richard the party animal asshole."
"He was pretty bad at first, but he turned out to be alright." Jennifer admits. "Once he learned to tone himself down a little, he was actually kinda fun. His dreamself is a bit of a pain, but..."
"But what?"
"But I haven't seen hide nor hair of him for weeks. Maybe we should pay him a visit when we have some time. He was out of town when... When everything went to pieces."
"...Wait, you mean he might have missed the whole mess."
"Proverbial astronaut during the apocalypse, yeah." Jennifer says slowly. "I'll give him a call after school is out. Speaking of which..." she looks at her phone. "I gotta get going." she rises, looking down at you as she bundles up, leaving her eyes the only thing visible. "Catch you later."

>See you later.
>Thanks for the food, Jennifer. Shame about the lunch you made.
>Don't worry. We can totally do this.
>[write in]


>Go for a run after you part ways.
>Go home and mentally prepare.
>Visit the park and try to relax.
>[write in]

>>3108353
>Thanks for the food, Jennifer. Shame about the lunch you made.
>Go home and mentally prepare.

>>3108353
>Thanks for the food, Jennifer. Shame about the lunch you made.

>Go home and mentally prepare.
>[write in] go home and also study a bit. See if anything at all exists on this phenomenon online, and any hints to tips or tricks to it to help you out.

>>3108353
>Thanks for the food, Jennifer. Shame about the lunch you made.
>Go home and mentally prepare.

File: a0be6b281568c6c67f0a8c178(...).png (632 KB, 602x666)

632 KB PNG

>>3108908
>>3108576
>>3108440
"Thanks for the food, Jennifer. Shame about the lunch you made."
"You... Yeah. You're welcome." she hurries away, and you leave after she pays. It's not a long way home, and you have a lot of time to mentally prepare. A cursory search online leaves you wondering if there are Dream Warriors elsewhere. There's only one way to know for sure, and you're not sure about getting in matches with strangers from far off. It strikes you as vaguely risky. Sitting on the bed, you watch the sun slowly set and lay back, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to fall asleep despite your nerves.

This is it.

You come back to your senses in a group of ruins not unlike where you met up with Jennifer. Only this time, it's in the markets and more of the buildings are whole, and stable. It's more recently abandoned, with one large central lane and buildings lined up along the sides. Dust blows on a light wind, and from the other end of the long street comes Carl. But not how you recall him. Much less armor, but flesh that looks like living brushed steel. In one hand a long staff, in the other, a hammer. The staff is used to support the massive frame, as the leg on that side is ruined, scarred by a spiraling wound that looks like a series of slashes. Like a razor rope was pulled along the skin there. A mask covers his face, or might be his face. It's hard to tell. The horns are still there, carried over from his original form. What could have twisted him so much?

"Here we are." Carl states quietly, though it carries down the stretch between you. He raises his hammer, almost a polearm in length, and points it at you. "I won't go easy on you, Clarke. This is payback for your screwup and your stupid sense of mercy."
"You realize I don't remember any of that, right?"
"Probably not." he admits. "But it feels good to say." he chuckles. "Let's do this, old (^&$$*%&. Let's see how much you have retained after feeling her... kiss." he shifts forward on the bad leg, then the good one, leaning forward.

>Let's try to get a height advantage. Up along the buildings. [Low risk, no rolls.]
>We need to gauge his range. Approach with care... [Low risk, low risk roll.]
>Get in there on his wounded side. Maybe we can get in a cheap shot on his leg. [Middling risk, risky roll]
>[Write in]

Reminder: Only gear we have is a sword, a cloak of daggers (manipulable, but not throwable fletchets), and the ability to scale walls.
Depending on how fast he can swing around those big sticks, we are at a significant disadvantage unless we can get in close and slash at him inside his reach.

>>3109796
>We need to gauge his range. Approach with care... [Low risk, low risk roll.]
Leg seems tempting, but I'm almost expecting it to be a bait, or for him to have suitable countermeasures for it. Let's test the waters first before committing.
Also, look for tells in his stance/style.

>"It doesn't seem like you've fared much better. I'm sorry, if what I did also did *that* to your avatar."

>>3109826
Ill support this. Though im a very 'alls fair in war' type, i agree theres no way he doesn't know his legs a weak point, and probably is expecting it sooner or later.

Also good choice of battle conversation too frok this anon.

>>3109796
>We need to gauge his range. Approach with care... [Low risk, low risk roll.]
Height advantage is good, but I want to see what he can do first.

Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>3109882
>>3109879
>>3109826
Rolling.

>>3109887
"I'm sorry. If what I did lead to this for your avatar. It doesn't seem as if you've fared much better."

"Well. Better than you will be." he states evenly as you edge forward. He leans down and launches by pushing down on the staff. He doesn't get much air, but as he's coming down, he slams both weapons forwad, and you barely get out of the way in time. A duck and a dive barely get you away from a followup swing with the staff and then the hammer - you can hear them whistle through the air near your head. But you can tell that the wound is no joke or fakery, he can't put weight on it. He needs to situate himself and then swing to use the staff, though it's not much oif a weakness - it's easily twice as long as you are tall.

You flip away and he chuckles. "The more things change." he states, rising to full height. A hugely telegraphed swing with the hammer is easily dodged, slamming into a building, and it's only sheer luck that gets you out of the way of the rubble falling from the edifice. "The more they stay the same." it's almost as if he has total control of the area around him...

>Take away the staff with the grapple enhancement we have. [High risk, risky roll.]
>Get above him, try to limit his options as you look for some of your own. [No roll]
>Try to disarm him with the cloak. [Middling risk, middling roll]
>Maybe if you get in close, those big weapons will have less leverage. [middling risk, risky roll]
>[Write in]

>>3109900
>Try to disarm him with the cloak. [Middling risk, middling roll]

Was gonna go with 'getcin close' but if hes strong enough to one arm a polehammer i dont want to be close to him. He could easily jist drop it and best us dowb potentially with his fists. Yes our cloak might help dissuade him on that, but its not worth the risk, plus swords still work better with a little bit of distance themselves, better when you are fighting an opponent that is weaponless.

>>3109900
>Bait out a staff swing then throw a chunk of a building at him while he's balancing on one leg

>>3109900
>Take awake the staff with the grapple enhancement

>>3109900
>Try to disarm him with the cloak. [Middling risk, middling roll]

Rolled 77 (1d100)

>>3110127
>>3109926
Rolling.

>>3110141
It's time to actually act and stop dodging around. Carefully focusing, the daggers turn from pointing down to pointing up, reversing in position in preparation. Moving in, you feel more lucid than before. Now that you have a plan, you aren't as nervous or as scared as before - sure, it's scary, but at least now there's a path. Carl leans down and pushes away with the staff, swinging straight down with the hammer - and you wrap the cloak around where the hammer meets the shaft, waiting until the moment before he lands to pull hard away.

There's a moment where your heart stops. Where you worry that his grip won't falter, that he's just too strong, that he was expecting it. But your pull tugs at his body, shifting his center, and he lands hard on his bad leg and screams. The grip on the hammer loosens, and you tear it from his grip.
"What?!" the hammer leaves his grip. And dissapears. The both of you stare at the empty space, Carl bemused at the sudden revelation. "I can't believe we never tried to steal enemy equipment." he says, his voice a little choked with laughter. "Well, something new every time!" he hunkers down, pointing at you as he sets his staff. "Now the fun begins."

You finally draw your sword, just in time to see him launch at you like a claymore mine. one steel arm catches you in a clothesline that sends you tumbling across the road, the shock of the blow clearing in time for you to get out of the way of the staff coming down on where your head was. He's resting on one foot and one knee, and you can barely keep up with the staffs thrusts as he pushes you just to the edge of his range. "Scared yet, Broken @*(&$&*(? Because you should be." he rises on his good leg and swings wide. The only thing that saves you is catching it on your sword, but the blow tosses you into a wall regardless. The arm under the cloak goes numb. You swear you heard something shift under all that metal that is your dreamself.

>Have to get away. Reposition. [No risk]
>>Escape down the road
>>Escape up the wall
>Fuck it, go in hard for the bad leg. He's short a weapon. [Middling risk, middling roll.]
>[write in]

>>3110156
>Fuck it, go in hard for the bad leg. He's short a weapon. [Middling risk, middling roll.]

>>3110156
>Fuck it, go in hard for the bad leg. He's short a weapon. [Middling risk, middling roll.]

>>3110156
>Wait until he rushes froward and rush towards him at the same time to close the distance before he can switch his staff from leg support to attacking

Rolled 82 (1d100)

>>3110393
>>3110390
>>3110358
Rolling.

>>3110404
One of these days...

You draw yourself up, ignoring the distant ache in your shoulder. The arm under the cloak hangs limp, loose. There is a moment. A bare, golden moment of opportunity. You wait, watching him - and the moment he launches forth, so do you. He notices you coming in, but you anticipated him swinging for you in this moment, and you slide out of the way as he lands beside you. His staff rises, and so does your blade. A single, decisive strike. You plunge the blade down into the wound, feeling the sword meet resistance as it slides through muscle, and scrape against bone. The blade slides out the other end, clinking against stone, and Carl cries out in pain.

You draw the blade out as he falls to one knee, blood spattering all about the area. Your sword is free of blood, oddly, a strange detail to notice in this moment as you kick away the staff dropped in his agony. He rears back one fist to punch you, but you slip away from him abd he cannot give effective chase. He's panting, looking up at you as one hand fumbles across the cobbles for a staff that's well out of his reach.

"This isn't over." Carl growls. "I would be... A poor knight... if I abandoned her so easily." he rises, standing on the ruined leg - at first gingerly, then more surely. His shoulders tense with the pain, and his steel hands ball into mighty, clublike fists. He roars, even as blood pools around one foot.

>Offer him surrender. You need not take his Core. His loyalty is just as grand a prize.
>Sever his leg. Finish this matter. Prolonging would be rude, at this point. [High risk, risky roll]
>A blow to the neck from above will end this. [Middling risk, middling roll]
>[Write in]

>>3110429
>Sever his leg. Finish this matter.
Then
>Offer him surrender. You need not take his Core. His loyalty is just as grand a prize.
We can get him a peg leg or something, but we need to make sure surrender is his only option, or he is at least not a threat.

To be fair a fake leg would probably work better at this point anyway.

>>3110429
>Offer him surrender. You need not take his Core. His loyalty is just as grand a prize.
I'm not sure if the other options kill him, and I don't want to risk it.

>>3110440
I don't think the dream can directly kill, that takes making someone do something. DREAMER can correct me if I'm wrong though.
>>3110429
>Sever his leg. Finish this matter. Prolonging would be rude, at this point. [High risk, risky roll]
Could we "bear the weight of our sins" so to speak? I think it'd be interesting to take the wound, to definitely remember some part of everything, and roll to see what else happens.
Maybe gaining a weak point on a Crit. fail, a self harming chainsaw leg on a regular fail, regular chainsaw leg(s) on a success, and Crit. success meaning something like a MAXIMUM OVERDRIVE!
Thoughts everyone?

>>3110798
>>3110439
Rolling.
Let's see if your luck holds out.

Rolled 40 (1d100)

>>3110993
whoopsie!

>>3110996
Dajg, not the worst possible failure, but of course our first would be on a high risk haha.

>>3110996
This needs to be done.

You move in, drawing your sword high. You expect to be able to slice the leg off with ease - finishing the matter with finality and surety - when the fist catches on the side of the head. It doesn't send you flying, and it feels like someone has shook the contents of your skull like a snowglobe. You stumble back a few steps, only to feel another blow crack across your face. Your vision blurs and darkens at the edges, stars dancing across your vision as a third blow slams into your chest.

Your armor cracks, and you fall onto your back.

"It's a real shame. You almost..." he takes a stumbling step, wobbling. "You almost had..." one hand rises to his head as he shakes it. He's sweating heavily, breath coming heavily and fast as blood pools at his feet. He stabilizes himself, raising one fist to deliver the final blow. Something gives, the blood flow slows. And the hands drop as his head droops, shoulders slumping as the spine curls, but he does not fall. His dreamself is dead, standing up. You live, armor broken, arm dislocated, on your back. You struggle to rise, watching the dreamself of Carl slowly fade, leaving behind a Core.

And with a popping sound, Mask appears, sitting nearby on a rooftop.
"Well done!" he calls, slapping one thigh, floating down. "So we are clear, this probably won't kill his real self."
"Probably?"
"You didn't wager anything that would directly betray his self, did you? Just broke another wager?"
"Uh... yes?"
"Then you're fine to take the core, guilt free." Mask states happily.
"...Ah, alright."


>TAKE THEIR ESSENCE [Gain an enhancement to your self derived from your opponent]
>TAKE THEIR WEAPON [Gain a new weapon]
>TAKE THEIR POWER [Enhance a weapon with their 'Essence'.]
>>ENHANCIBLE EQUIPMENT: [SWORD, CLOAK]

>>3111065
>TAKE THEIR POWER [Enhance a weapon with their 'Essence'.]
>>Enhance Cloak

>>3111065
>TAKE THEIR ESSENCE [Gain an enhancement to your self derived from your opponent]

Well, it was a victory, but hardly a grand one. We meed to grow stronger i think, though at this point none of the options are bad, but at worst i dont think our weapons need enhancments compared to more versatility on our own persons part, in one way or another.

>>3111065
Can we leave him everything?
I mean, if he can become an ally, it's better not to weaken him by stealing anything of his.

>>3111065
Hey OP, if you don't get any more votes by the time you want to call the current vote, I'll change my vote to >>3111080
>>3111097
I assume that we'd have to grab the core like how Mask did (i.e. putting it into a creature for storage) and then returning the core to Carl at a later date since I don't think he's actually here to take it back.

>>3111097
I didn't even think of if this was an option. Yeah id leave him everything if we can, considering everything.

That is, if his dream self isnt 'dead' for good, or back to square one no matter what we do. I mean, the wound he had seemed pretty permanent. Its quite possible alot of these end in surrenders to avoid a full death, but we do not yet know enough to be sure.

>>3111065
>TAKE THEIR ESSENCE [Gain an enhancement to your self derived from your opponent]

>>3111206
>>3111080

>>3111097
>>3111126

You look to Mask.
"Well... Can I give it back?"
Mask thinks.
"Interesting. Interesting idea. But a perspective: This isn't the Carl you know. It's a new Name, forced on to him through memory manipulation, like your new self. Let's just say he won't mind - when he reclaims his name and returns to normal, this Core won't matter. Weapon, essense, power... Nothing would carry over. Compare the two in your mind - this one didn't even have a sword. Or armor."

"So if I regain my name?"

"Probably a full return to powers you had before. The cores you have currently... who knows. I've never seen such a dramatic change, so there's no telling what might happen. At worst, you discard what you've gained and draw what you had back then. At best, you keep it all." You almost reach for the power, then turn to Mask.

"Who... Who are you? How do you know so much?" you say. "You've been an enormous help, but how do I know I can trust you?"
"Oh, my. Listen closely, doubting Thomas." he says, dancing through the air to you. "In a deck of cards, you have your suits and kings and queens. Your jacks. The numbers. Let's just say that I have always felt apart, always felt wild. And I have danced your dance and seen your game played. And know this: I am quite possibly one of very few you can trust. Maybe one of three. You will rebuild, I think, and maybe face a witch of your own. But to do that, you must be sure of what is being done to you, and why."

(Continued...)

>>3111290

Then he laughs. "Take the power. But when you wake up, I want you to ask yourself: Are you really the target here? Who has suffered the most from this series of events, felt the most anguish? Sometimes folks need to learn when it just isn't their story." he snaps his fingers and vanishes. And, frustrated, you take the Essence. This power nearly throws you fifteen feet high, but you don't impact - or don't feel it. Your flesh shines and shimmers with power, your arms, back, and chest especially. Your armor grows to cover more of your body, and you feel your grapple claws grow more numerous. Even your Cloak's cloth gains a steel shimmer.

Stalinbyk. You look at your chromed, armored hands as the name whispers in your mind.

You awaken with a start, and try to sit up, letting out a sharp gasp. Pain shivers through your body, from your chest down your arm. You feel like you're having a hangover, from how Dad described one once, and everything is a little blurry. The feeling passes when you get a text, from Carl:

I'm fine.
Me, Jennifer, and Richard are planning on meeting up at the park today later, in the afternoon - come if you can. Avoid James, he will probably challenge you. We need to discuss strategy, and what all happened. If you can't make it, I'll call you.

Relief washes through you. You almost expected Carl to die.

For now, though, it's not a school day. It's early morning.

>Let's eat big. Got to celebrate!
>Check social media, see if anything new has happened in regards to Beatrice.
>Call Jennifer. Discuss what Mask said?
>[Write in]

>>3111292
>Check social media, see if anything new has happened in regards to Beatrice.

>>3111292
>[Write in] go over your few memories you have and do a bit of research online. Try and figure out the social order and what is really going on here more. You may be able to guess who 'the story is really about' but finding out more on that, and other things, will help you plan this all out more, and fix it.

The wagers may be able to change memories, but the internet is forever. It also probably cant change non dreamer/challenge associated persons memories. So clues to before will be out there.

>>3111292
Supporting >>3111327

>>3111292
Seconding >>3111884

>>3111322
>>3111327
>>3111884
>>3112287
You decide to spend the morning checking social media, and you're shocked at the results. The facebook that Jennifer had is gone. You blink, scrolling through your feed, finding it strange she hasn't posted, but all you can find are little bits and fragments of chats with her - simple stuff. Setting dates, mostly. You hung out often. Your own album, though, is decidedly painful to look at. Not emotionally - but physically. Half the photos cause the same headaches as visiting the diner and seeing Jennifer unmasked. Pictures of a club of people gathered together. All sorts of people - racially diverse and even generationally. You see a couple of nervous teachers on the fringe, even. A cross-section of the school, you might say - one or two people from every clique or subculture. The fact that Jennifer was able to gather and corral such a gang of cats is frankly astounding.

She looks not just happy, but proud. Your head screams in protest but you soldier on. Beatrice is in several of the pictures, but oddly apart. And her eyes are always on you, especially when you're standing close to Jennifer. A narrative, obvious and easy, floats into your head, but you file it away until later. It almost feels like too much of a gimme. For now, you are relieved that no one else is hurt.

Avoiding James is another matter. You chart a roundabout course and leave extra early, before the sun has truly risen. There's a spring in your steps as you head out, the chill pleasant and life-affirming in the way a fall morning usually is. Exploring this back end of town isn't something you do often, because most of your friends are in the classier parts of town. Lots of buildings hunched together, squirrely alleys. The part of town that feels dangerous in the dark, even if you know that the crime rate in this city is quite low. Between your route and your pace, though, Jennifer has beaten you there, bundled up and looking at her phone.

"Hey there." You sit across from her, and she looks up. A smile that reaches her eyes crosses the part of her face that you can see.
"Hey yourself. Good job." she says, "It can't have been easy."
"It was rough." you find yourself admitting. Your shoulder still pangs in sympathy.

>By the way, why'd you delete your facebook?
>I saw some pictures of the club. How did you pull that off?
>I think I'm piecing together what happened... [ask a writein]
>[write in]

>>3112775
>By the way, why'd you delete your facebook?

Did anyone notice Nanashi literally means Anon?

>>3112775
>I saw some pictures of the club. How did you pull that off?

>>3112775
>By the way, why'd you delete your facebook?
>I saw some pictures of the club. How did you pull that off?

>>3112775
>By the way, why'd you delete your facebook?

>>3112873
>>3112855
>>3112786
"...By the way, why'd you delete your facebook?" you find yourself asking. Jennifer instantly slides deeper into her clothes, like a turtle.
"It, uh... It wasn't worth going there anymore." she says, dodging the question, "Besides, everyone knows now how shady the place is, right? It uh, it seemed like a good idea. I, uh... I mean... Oh, hey! Richard!" she waves, standing up. "Over here!"
Richard is... well, he wishes he could be a punk. He belongs to a family that moved here to get away from the culture of LA, but his family brought their upper-class sensibilities with them. He likes to claim he's between two cultures, but it's always been funny to you how both him and his parents feel the same way. Jet black hair with long bangs but kept short, brown eyes, and slightly feminine features, a skinny body from a pointed avoidance of both sports and junk food, and an approach to fashion that somehow tries to come at grunge from name brands, resulting in a look that feels slightly plasticy and off.
"Clarke!" he said, running up to you and actually embracing you. "My man, thank god. I was away at a funeral and shit. Missed all this bullshit." he smiles at Jennifer, begins to approach, and stops with a shrug as she raises her hands and leans away. Hands in pockets, he achieves the laid-back sort of charm that James shoots for and misses with astounding consistency. "I'm still with y'all."
Jennifer relaxes.
"Then the treasury..."
"...Uh, about that. We need to talk about it when Carl gets here." he hedges. Your look of confusion has Richard explaining some background: "Used to be you had a little %&^$#*&. Everyone in the club would seek minor duels online, and cores would get collected by anyone capable of making minor Tulpas."
"The little creatures that Mask showed you." Jennifer states, then gestures to Richard to continue.
"So we had this... maybe ten or so cores, in cold storage so to speak." he says. "We stored them in a weird, uh, pocket space in a gold trunk in the Dream. Idea was, if anyone pulled any bullshit on people using Dream power, we would find out and power someone up with the Cores to go take care of things."
"...Okay..." you gesture for him to continue, and Richard chuckles nervously.
"Like I said, when Carl gets here!" he groans when he sees a bus pull up and Carl approach in a big plastic cast on one foot. He seems determined not to make it an issue as he approaches, even with a medical cane.

(Continued)

>>3112921

Richard sighs. "Hey Carl. So I was just explaining about the treasury."
"You lost it."
"It was stolen, man!" he says, holding up his hands in defense. "Real slick like! Even my maze didn't mean shit!"
Your look of confusion begets clarification from Carl.
"Richard here has a dreamself that specializes in spacial manipulation." Carl states. "He was also the treasurer, and stored the golden trunk in a place we all referred to as The Labrynth. It was hell to navigate, and only Richard truly understood it." his glare, augmented by his pain, aonly makes Richard sigh in defeat.
"No defense is perfect, man." he admits. "I'm sorry. I don't know where it went. But there is one piece of good news." he says, "Only someone here can open it." he grins, "Anyone else has a Core sucked into it. Made for smooth collection of 'taxes' AND a clever way to ensure no tampering. It's not even a matter of a password, only one of us can do it. And Carl, you didn't open it."
"Nope. Beatrice didn't even mention it."
A wave of relief rolls over everyone. "...But this introduces a new wrinkle. We need to either dedicate ourselves to finding the lost treasury, or to reuniting and rebuilding things." he crosses his arms. "For what it's worth, I think it's worthwile to rebuild. The treasury can't be opened, so it's in no danger. I think we should rebuild."
"Dunno, man, with all those cores we could get a lot done." Richard states. Jennifer ponders, then looks to you.

Looks like she'll follow along with you.

>Find the treasury.
>Let's focus on rebuilding.
>[Write in.]

>>3112936
>Let's focus on rebuilding.
All those cores would be wonderful, but going on a wild goose chase would get us nowhere, and we probably know what party stole it, thus working on rebuilding may bring us nearer to it naturally.

>>3112936
>Let's focus on rebuilding.

>>3112936
>Pump Carl for intel on Beatrice, her forces and her plans.

>>3112936
>Let's focus on rebuilding.
If we come across information incidentally then MAYBE we go for it.

>>3112936
The way I see this, the treasure isn't going anywhere.
Might as well focus on rebuilding.

>>3112936
>Let's focus on rebuilding.
Basically what everyone else has said, Treasury is potentially anywhere, but the content is safe from tampering.
Rebuilding and getting a decent handle on the situation is more important

>Gesture at Carl's Cane. And our arm.
I want to know how permanent that is, and if it can be helped by winning wages. Last thing I want is to do is cripple all our friends just because they were forced to side with our enemies.

>>3113117
>Mfw I wanted to cut his leg off.
Wonder what that would've done, whew.

>>3113076
>>3113117
>>3113064
>>3112971
>>3112964
"We should focus on rebuilding." you cross your arms. "The contents of the Treasury are safe. And likely its location is related to Beatrice somehow. So by eliminating her forces, we should find it anyway."
"True enough," Carl says evenly, leaning on the table. "I'm assuming you're going to get started by coming at James?"
"Naturally. He's next on the list because he can't handle his position - caught between a rock and a hard place, he's starting to target Jennifer here in the Real."
Richard leans back on his heels, eyes going a little dark.
"I'll keep an eye on him." he says.
"Carl, what exactly was her motivation?" you find yourself asking. "Her goals?"
"As far as we can tell, she wanted to excise you from your position." Carl states, leaning back, "Erase you from her life and everyone else's, one step at a time. She was going to start with us, because she knows who to hit. The further from her social circle it gets, the harder it is for her to target your friends and know who to damage in the same way. She also learned how to do something we needed you to stop. And you didn't."
"What do you mean?"
"She learned how to challenge non-dreamers."
The words slam into place and your blood runs a little cold.
"But if they aren't dreamers, then -"
"Then they are defenseless and lose by default. Worthless cores, sure. But that's not what she wants." Carl says. Richard sighs.
"It all came to a head when she wanted to try and challenge a bunch of girls who were harassing Jennifer. A bunch of stupid socialite bitches. Me and Carl were gonna handle it, but Beatrice thought that if we had this ability, why not use it to help?"
"And you were opposed. You saw the writing on the wall, at first. But she brought you around, somehow..." he looks at you with an odd glare, "...And let her give it a shot."
Jennifer further shrinks into her parka as the realization sinks in. The early suicides. "She tried to play it off as an accident. She didn't know her own power. You let her off the hook so long as she hunted extra cores. And guess where she got those?"
"Oh god." If she went online to do it, anonymously...
"I demanded you do something. Jennifer was furious. But before Jennifer could act, Beatrice did."
Richard frowns as Jennifer starts to shake.

>[Try to apologize, write in]
>[Attempt to comfort Jennifer, write in]
>[write in]

>>3114949
>[Try to apologize, write in] "godamn i fucked up then. Looks guys, Carl, Richard, Jennifer. I know, really, that it means jack considering I don't even remember any of this. But im sorry. Im, fuck i wish i even knew why i did it, let that all happen, but just because i don't doesn't mean it doesn't fall on my shoulders that were all in this mess. If, if i got people killed, even indirectly, than ive done worse then you should forgive me for. I don't expect you to put yourself on the line for my mistakes anymore, ill take the hits i deserve to fix this mess, even if its cost i cant afford. It sounds like ive stood by too long and let others take similar in my place as it is..."

>>3114949
Holy crap, we are scum.
>Break down

>>3114949
>Walk to a trashcan and try not to puke. "How do I even start to fix that? There's no making up for that, people are dead for fucks sake."
>>3115135
Yup, or we were, let's change that.

Oh god, you were terrible. God only knows what you did with Beatrice. God only knows how that affected Jennifer. Or that these initial misdeeds were for her benefit. Your legs feel weak. You can hardly stand. However, it's not Jennifer that snaps you out of it, nor is it Carl.

Richard steps up, a hand on your shoulder.
"You should be grateful." he says. "Honestly, when we find Beatrice, the first thing we should do is thank her."
"Wh..."
"Listen. There's a reason you did those things. You convinced yourself. You dug yourself into a trench. And when we tried to pull you out, you justified your actions, and dug deeper. That's the way people work, man. They don't just become monsters overnight. It's one bad decision after another. It's one mistake followed by another."
"I've killed people, Richard."
"No. Stop that. Beatrice killed people." he has both hands on your shoulders now. "What you have is something very few people get. You don't have all that bullshit you've built in your own head. You don't have the excuses, the lies you made to yourself anymore. That's all gone. If it wasn't, you'd be trucking right along, trying to, I dunno, eliminate all bullying in the school like fucking Light Yagami or some shit. You have a second chance, man. And I want you to know, I will be here with you." his grip tightens as Carl steps up beside you, a hand atop Richard's.
"My words were harsh before, but that was because I felt they needed to be. I see that Richard is right, as he so rarely is. I will stand by you as well."
Jennifer is rubbing at her eyes, then takes a deep breath.
"Is there any question?" she asks.
"Yeah." you take a deep breath. "Where do I start?"

(Continued)

>>3117235

"So." Carl starts, now that you've gotten something to eat and have arranged yourselves around one of the picnic tables, "There's a few parameters we have to operate in, limits we have, targets, and goals. First, our limits. First of all, each of us can only target a single person every night. You cannot make multiple challenges, the new ones write over the old ones. Second, each of us is only so strong. I would bet that Richard and Jennifer are strongest, followed by myself and Clarke. No hard feelings. With my old name, and you at your current level... Well. That limits us to four targets. There were about..." he counts on his fingers, before Jennifer interrupts.
"25 members in the club." she says, "Counting us. So... 21. Twenty one targets."
"It seems like a lot, but each one we defeat will be on our side again." Richard supplies. "In reality, we should only have to capture, oh, six or seven. After that it'll get a lot easier."
"Right. And we can only challenge the ones we can talk to or meet up with. James is a good target for you, Clarke." Carl says, crossing his arms, "And it'll be a nice catharsis after all this. We have to take initiative. Be wary that once you state your challenge, they can ask for anything if you lose. Things are going to be pretty hairy. This isn't the old days of asking for homework copies and lunch money, this is for all the marbles. Our goal is to take back enough forces that we can expose Beatrice. She's hidden - I don't know where, for sure, but she's not at school and not in town. I got orders by third party. I'm sure a few trusted turncoats will have that information." he cricks his neck, "But there's of course the possibility she has done her own recruiting." he says.

"There's a few things we can do." Richard adds. "We can try to get you your name back. But that will hurt a lot. It might even take you out for a day, from what we know." he says, "Plus, there's stuff that likely only you used to know. Restoring your memories will help a lot."

"And you can't neglect your mental health." Carl adds in. "You can't just focus on this to the detriment of other things. Balance is important."

>Let's focus on my memories and my Name.
>>Maybe Richard can target someone other than James?
>I'd like to keep this ball rolling. Anyone know where I can find James?
>We should get safe, first. Prevent ourselves from getting challenged and avoid challenges until we feel more secure.
>>We should talk to Mask and see about making an offer.
>[Write in]

>>3117236
>We should get safe, first. Prevent ourselves from getting challenged and avoid challenges until we feel more secure.

Were playing a very dangerous game, and the last thing we need is someone to get forced back to the other side, or worse. We need to calculate this out, plan it a bit more. We cant jist turn this into a war of forced turncoats hoping to use brute force and numbers alone. We had numbers before, and possibly brute strength too, and look where we are now.

>>3117236
>We should get safe, first. Prevent ourselves from getting challenged and avoid challenges until we feel more secure.

>>3117236
>We should get safe, first. Prevent ourselves from getting challenged and avoid challenges until we feel more secure
We’re at a major disadvantage compared to our opponents, so a little grinding wouldn’t hurt

Out of curiosity, to the rest of you, do we even want our old name back?
If what we did was really awful, and we got a second chance like Richard said; would it be best to symbolize that by turning a new leaf and claiming a new name for ourselves.

Or, if we get our old name, do we adjust it to be a "risen" or otherwise spin on it? Knight to paladin, conquer to liberator?

>>3117892
Honestly I’m split on the whole situation. On one hand, we lost a lot of info and power, but if we have to return to being a dick then I’d personally sacrifice our old self

>>3117892
My only issue is the loss of information and the literal physical pain that seems to come from not having it. Mostly the second one.

We don't need to be that person again, and we can become strong again on our own. If we can get a new name and still dig up some old memories at the same time, that is the best option i think, as what memories we have brought back don't seem to come with the emotional connection as much as just be information, allowing us to think as we want on our past, instead of our past shaping who we are now. At least, thats how it seemed to me.

"We need to be safe if we plan to move forward. Get more secure, avoid challenges we can't control." you say, circling the table. "In the mean time I should try and see what I can remember, no matter how much it hurts." you sit down. "Honestly, I'm worried about retaking my Name. If I was bad then..."
"You have new context now." Richard says. "The Clarke I remember was... different. You're humbled a lot. It's a good look on you."
"Indeed. No need to fear returning to your old self." Carl says, and Jennifer nods.
"If you do, I'll stop you."
"Great." Richard smiles. "So why don't we extradite to my summer home?" he asks. "Or at least, you, Clarke. You're sort of an ace in the hole. If you get your Name back we're set. And if you want to stay safe, well, the summer home is hard to reach - no landline and physically secluded. And only I know where it is. And-"
"HEY." there's a raspy shout, and everyone looks up to see a very haggard, very tired James stumble into view. "Hey assholes." his hair is a mess, his eyes are shadowed by some sort of... dread? They keep shifting around. He keeps scratching one arm, and his shirt is on inside out.
"Christ, James, what's happened- oh fuck." Richard's eyes go wide and he stumbles back, almost falling over the table. "Oh fuck, James, calm the fuck down, man."


James has a gun, and he's slowly stalking forward.

Clarke is too shocked to think of any action to take.
You must write in an action.
>[Write In]

>>3118525
>Move to be in front of the others, arms up.
>"James, james. Calm down. What do you want. You don't want to shoot, we would be dead already if you wanted to, so just put the damn thing down and talk. Just talk. If you fire, your lifes just as over as whatever your afraid of thst pushed you to this, even if you dont hit us. If you kill us, its life or even death row. Out it down, and let us talk."

>>3118553
Supporting

>>3118553
>>3118525
Supporting

>>3118525
>>3118553
supporting

>>3118553
WHat did Father teach you about guns...
Your hands raise up as you look to your friends who do the same.
"James... We're not going to hurt you, or challenge you. Tell us why you're here."
"She told me to handle you. Take care of it." he says, gun jumping from target to target. "Wants to make sure you don't get your name back. And... And you know, this seemed..."
"Easiest?" you take a step forward.
A gun fires a small metal projectile that surpasses the speed of sound. Aiming to shoot nonlethally is a fuckin' joke, son. It's a joke because no matter where you shoot a human being, there's a pretty good chance they will die without medical attention. Sometimes with. A gun needs to be taken seriously. But the shooter is who is going to make a mistake.
"James, once that gun goes off, it will make a sound louder than a jet engine. It will be heard for miles. If cops don't hear it, someone will call them who did." Another step.
Look at the gun. What's the calibur? Is it a handgun or a longarm? A shotgun or a rifle? Is the safety on? Is their finger on the trigger?
James has released the safety. The gun is cocked. His aim is unsteady, but he's serious. He hasn't slept since you last saw him. You can't recall if he had even slept then. Did Beatrice take his sleep away as punishment? "There are untold witnesses around here, James. You did some juvie for that stunt at the gas station, so your prints are in the system. You're seventeen, man. It will be easy for you to get tried as an adult." Another step. He's only ten feet away.
You need to be within three feet for an effective disarm that's sure to work. You can try from further away, but it's not gaurenteed. Block the firing mechanism if you can - the hammer of the gun - but if you can't, knock the aim at the ground. Anywhere else is dangerous to onlookers. Avoid collatoral damage if you can.
"Your life will be over. It doesn't matter what sentence you get, James. Doesn't matter where you go." Another step. Six feet. "You'll be just as dead as we are, it'll just take a little longer." four feet. You can see the panic in his eyes as he raises the gun. His eyes squeeze shut.
Rookies never fire with their eyes open.
Your hand reaches out. It's a practiced motion, something your father taught you before you entered high school. Index finger and thumb wrap around the gun. The hammer is intercepted by the webbing between the digits. It hurts like a bitch, but you pull the gun arm down and towards yourself, flicking the safety with your free hand.

James feels so weak, like a pile of sticks. Has he eaten in the past couple of days?! You would knee him in the belly, but the gun comes out of his grip like it was buttered, and he lets out a quiet sound of despair. You quickly eject the magazine and clear the chamber, catching the free bullet. You pocket it, and toss the mag to Richard and keep the gun - held by the barrel - in your hand.

(Continued.)

James has fallen to his knees, his mouth moves but no sound escapes. Carl steps forward and puts a hand on his shoulder, frowning - his hand almost comes away like it touched a hit stove.
"Christ, he feels-"
"Yeah." you say. "James, are you okay?" you lean down to look at his eyes, but they won't focus. They're wild, darting around madly. Even listening close, you can't make any sense of what he's saying.

>Carl, get him to a hospital.
>[Attempt to ask a question] [Write in]
>Smack him a few times.
>[write in]

>>3119265
I feel this isn't something the mundane hospital would be able to fix. Chances are Clarke's guess is on point, he lost a challenge and this is his payment.

Let's see if we can get more details on what his wager was, and challenge him to remove said payment.

>>3119274
Ill support this. He might also have more intel on just what Beatrice is actually after.

>>3119265
Challenge him to remove his payment

>>3119265
>>3119274
Maybe get someone stronger to make the wager? Unless they think we can win.

"James, we need to know what's up with you. We understand, this was driven by another, but -"
"Shut the fuck up." he rises to full height, stumbles back a step, then catches himself. "Don't need no goddamn pity from you fucking rejects. Pieces of, of shit. I can't sleep until I handle this, and I'll find a way to get you outta the picture." he rubs his face.
Can't sleep.
"You can't sleep?" Richard asks.
"Did I fucking stutter, rich bitch faggot?" he spits out. "It's not like I was making some, uh, some metaphory." he says. "Now give me back my dad's gun before you start trying to suck Clarke's dick or something."
"You'll forgive Clarke if he doesn't." Carl says, "Sorry. We're not getting anything out of him any time soon." he delivers a hard blow to James' upper belly with the head of his cane and throws him over his shoulder. James spits out more insults and curses as he's carried away. "I'll return shortly." he calls, "In the meantime I suggest you get Clarke another Core, Richard. I'm sure you can scratch one up."
Richard scratches the back of his head and sighs.
"Yeah, won't be hard." he grumbles. "If James can't sleep," he says, watching Carl lug a barely-resistant James off, "He can't even participate in the Dream. He can't be challenged. And if we wait too long to get at Beatrice..."
"Long term sleep deprivation..." Jennifer finally speaks up.
"Well, maybe they can get him to a hospital and induce sleep on him. The Wager can only do so much."
"Yeah, but when he wakes up the rebound will make it far worse." Jennifer sighs, plopping onto a seat. "What a mess."
Richard checks his watch and leans back.
"I'll get going on that core you'll need. Meantime, you lay low and avoid contact, like we agreed." he takes off too, leaving you and Jennifer alone. She has trouble meeting your eyes, fidgety and flushed from recent excitement.

>...I'm sure James will be fine.
>What's bothering you? Aside from what just happened, I mean.
>You have anything to add to what Carl said, Jennifer?
>[Attempt comfort]
>[Write in]

I have been making a mistake: Since >>3111292 you have, in fact, been awake, and thus the name field should have read "NANASHI" instead of "DREAMER". This is my fault. You will recieve an instance of GOOD FORTUNE as a result of my grievous mistake.

>>3124622
>What's bothering you? Aside from what just happened, I mean.

>>3124622
>[Attempt comfort]

>>3124622
>What's bothering you? Aside from what just happened, I mean.

>>3124622
>What's bothering you? Aside from what just happened, I mean.

>>3127008
>>3125432
>>3124708
"Something's bothering you."

"I never thought she'd go this far." Jennifer says heavily. "She always felt off, always felt dangerous, but I never felt she would do this much for something as petty as..." she sighs, rubbing her eyes. "As what was going on. I thought she'd eventually take stock and stand back and understand why she'll never get what she wants doing things like this. Why it's such a pointless endeavor. But she just keeps going."

"What are you talking about?" you have to know, and the question makes her wince.

"This isn't all your fault." she says quietly. "What the others have told you is all true, but part of this is on me, too."
"You can't be serious, those two girls-"
"No, not that." she sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm being stupid and mysterious. It's just, it's very private and..." she fidgets with her hood and scarf, "I've always been kind of a private person." she looks at her feet. "I'm debating what to do, where to go with this. I think I'll know tomorrow." she looks at the gun on the table, hands forming into fists. "It was supposed to be... fun. Just... jokes and silly bets. Nothing serious. Look at what she's done to it, Clarke. Look at what she's turned it into!" the quiet intensity in her words is almost disturbing. "I'll never forgive her." she turns and heads off without another word, and you carefully wipe the gun down with a handkerchief.

It's time to head home.

The walk is long and quiet, skies dark and deep russet red. You spent a lot of time in thought, taking detours and long ways, taking in the city. Your head throbs with attempts to recall more of the past. No challenges, no contact with Mask. Richard is off hunting a core for you, Everything should be fine, but it's not. It's like when a tooth is out of alignment and you can't close your jaw properly. Something's caught in your craw and you can't sleep.

>Speculate on Beatrice's motivations [Write in]
>Try to recall your Name [Write in]
>Call Carl, see if James is okay.
>[write in]

>>3129443
>Call Carl, see if James is okay.

>>3129443
>Call Carl, see if James is okay.
I already threw down some of Beatrice's motives in the last thread, I think. I can't think of much that isn't an obvious 'quest for power' motive at the moment. We'll have to wait and find out more before I can say anything otherwise.

I wonder, can we do anything in the dream world without the need to challenge or promise to meet someone? Jennifer said its was similar to lucid dreaming. Think we can just explore the dream world on our off time?

>>3129443
>Call Carl, see if James is okay.

>>3129443
Do we still have the gun or did we dispose of it somehow?

>>3129607
>>3129530
>>3129494
You call Carl, and it turns out he turned James out to hime not long ago. There was a long argument, a few ineffective punches, and a load of insults, but he was alright at the time.
"In as much as two days or so, though, he'll be pretty unstable." Carl states. "Hopefully we can sort this all out before that happens."
There's a long pause as you both realize how little you can offer each other at this point. Awkwardly, he ends the call with a well-wishing and you toss the phone onto the table limply, watching it land next to the gun. Rubbing your face, you pick it up and hide it in one of your dressers, sitting on the bed and then laying back.

Sleep steals on you, and your intent to enter the Dream brings you to awareness in the room you sparred with Jennifer. The throne room with the broken throne. You hands slide over the shattered chair, over the repaired table, as you walk around it, stepping over ruined chairs. There's an element of sorrow here. And as you turn back to look at the throne, you see something there.

"You're starting to remember." it says. It's not an actual Dreamer. What did Mask call it, a Tulpa? Shaped like a person. "Soon you won't be able to stop. And once you remember it all, maybe you'll see what mistakes we all made." Smoky, wraithlike, the suggestion of a woman but no definition. "We'll find you, then. It won't be hard. After all... What else are we made for? We shallow nightmares."

Hands raise within the foggy smoke to show shiny claws and the hint of a fanged smile. And then it winks out, like the cheshire cat, leaving behind a smile. A smile you start to see in every shadow, a laugh without emotion or joy.


>END OF THREAD TWO
>GAINED ONE CORE: STALINBRYK
>GAINED STEEL FLESH
>MADE ONE WAGER - WON
>REGAINED NO COMPLETE MEMORIES

>>3132645
Thanks for running!

>>3132645
Thanks for running. Enjoy the holidays.
Can't wait for the next thread.

>>3132645
Thanks for running.

>>3132645
Thank ya