Work Text:
Caelus is positive he has never gone a single night without dreaming. Granted, most of the finer details slip away like dust the second he wakes up, but for the most part, he remembers everything; most of which he will spill to his friends. As of now, however, the Trailblazer would be battling a rather terrifying dream—or a nightmare, as they call it—one in which Caelus gets pursued by mysterious men in black.
Not very original if you ask me. But still, I find it fascinating what the mind can conjure. Don’t you think so, too?
The shadow of a man can be seen throwing himself over the railings, dropping onto the ground with a loud thud and an agonised grunt seconds later. Though not one for profanity, the situation compels Caelus enough to spit out the word “shit”—followed by numerous other curses under his breath as he gets up, albeit on wobbly knees. The man only gets so much time to catch his breath, however, before he brushes the dirt off his pants and makes a run for it once more; he dashes past empty, pitch-dark alleyways for fear he’d hit a dead end, skips on giant, crowded bazaars because of the sheer number of people—faceless people, might I add—and large, comically tall high-rises, the likes of which do not belong in a rural town setting until finally, he comes to a ledge. Caelus nearly stumbles over his own feet, the near-accident causing dust from the rubble to kick up at his shoes.
Now that it has come to this, I can only imagine what our dear protagonist will do next. Well?
Caelus’s face is quick to sour, his expression scrounging up into a frown as he hastily signs, ‘If you have time to narrate everything I do, then—’ However, he is quickly interrupted by the shouting of his pursuers, putting him on high alert as he instantly starts looking around for an escape route.
Dally any longer and things could get dangerous.
As Caelus draws out a long, frustrated groan, his first course of action is to look down below. While scanning the area, he finds rows and rows of shops lined along an old-timey street, together with his ticket way out—unorthodox as they may be—street lamps. He takes several steps back, bracing himself to jump before going for it. Caelus hardly registers the split second he spends mid-air, focus locked only on the metal pole which Caelus manages to grab hold of, using it to slide down with no issue. Well, not accounting for the burning feeling left on his open palms due to the raw metal texture. Either way, the Trailblazer never fails to grit his teeth and simply bear the pain, finding immediate relief the second he touches the ground.
From the running and various other activities Caelus has been forced into since coming here, the Trailblazer is just about ready to call it a day—except he can’t, so a moment of respite he will have. His hands move rather sluggishly as he signs to finish his sentence from earlier. ‘If you have time to narrate everything’—he emphasises this by using aggressive hand movements—‘I do, can’t you help me out somehow?’
If you can give me one good reason why I should, sure.
His brows knit together, mouth left slightly agape by the strangeness of it all. ‘Why even be here then?’
The look on your face tells me your message is much more dire than I can perceive. Ah, well, I don’t know. To watch you run around? Suffer? It was quite entertaining. At the beginning, that is.
Caelus schools his face into a deep frown—he’d look at whoever was pissing him off but at the moment, he could hear nought but a loud, disembodied voice booming at the back of his head, narrating his every progression—the voice adds with so much swagger in their tone that it starts to get under the usually mellow Trailblazer’s skin.
When Caelus decides that he has had enough, he starts by signing aggressively, ‘Look, whoever you are’—however, it’s at this moment that Caelus realises there’s a security camera placed overhead, blending in inconspicuously amidst a street full of steampunk technology. It’s far from the kind of machines produced in this era, that much he knows; he also knows that very few things tend to make sense in Dreamscape—but this? The Trailblazer freezes at the sight of it blinking red, suggesting that someone, whoever it is on the other end, is watching him at this second.
What’s the matter?
‘Is that you?’
The camera stops blinking red in the moments that follow, the rasp of a voice felt next to his ear.
Who, me?
Caelus knows he has never moved so fast in his life. The voice sends alarms blaring off in his head as he manifests his baseball bat in the palm of his hands, swinging it towards the direction of the voice in the next. His weapon does little to fight off the entity though; made of black smoke accompanied by the smell of sulphur—putrid and pungent. The smoke scatters into a thousand swirls upon impact before gathering itself once more, forming the silhouette of a man donning a black, three-piece suit and a glowing, luxurious golden smile.
Oh, dear. Was that supposed to hurt? They spoke, the sheer elation of their voice banishing the tension like smoke.
Of everything Caelus could have imagined, this was surely not one of them. He steps back out of instinct and grimaces at how easy it was for the other to appear in such a benign manner. Granted, they could still hurt him—they just hadn’t yet, which gives him the confidence to sign, ‘You smiling makes it look that much worse.’
They chuckle; a deep, yet airy sound. I’d beg to differ. From what I can tell, you seem a lot less apprehensive already. Well, where was I? Oh, right. Let me modify that last bit for you, seeing how things have changed now. They pause to clear their throat. Caelus now had a face to glare at for every unfortunate circumstance; the very same one who had been narrating his every progression.
Astonished, Caelus stares at the figure blankly before finally adding, ‘I could comment on a hundred things right now, but honestly? I’m just going to finish my sentence from earlier’—this induces a sense of déjà vu in him, which prompts him to add—‘again. Nothing is going to progress if you don’t bring me somewhere else. Somewhere safe.’
They appear to consider it, sneaking a hand under their chin as quiet humming fills the air. Suddenly, they break out into a wide grin; a sight which Caelus can’t say puts him at ease.
I suppose you have a point. Let’s get going, then.
***
The next time Caelus wakes up, he’s surprised to find it’s on a couch and even more upset when he learns he’s still dreaming.
Would it kill you to smile a little?
Despite having just woken up, Caelus immediately snaps his head to the sound of the voice. To his dismay, however, the Trailblazer is met only with a faceful of the ceiling. His left eye twitches, signifying his annoyance as he signs from the couch. ‘I highly doubt you are in any position to be making demands of me.’
Fair enough.
Caelus’s body is aching in various areas for whatever reason. Namely, the joints in his legs. Conceptually speaking, Caelus considers the possibility that none of this was a dream and that the mysterious entity had been tricking him all along. Except, that’d be a little far-fetched even for him. Things tend to make little sense in Dreamscape, which he has already accepted before, and Caelus is more than ready to chalk it up to that conclusion. Yes, even despite how vivid everything is—the scratchy fabric of the cushion he’s lying on; the dim yellow light of an office from the 2000s, and strewn paperwork everywhere, littering the carpeted floor. For all he knew, the voice could just be a subconscious of sorts.
Caelus takes the time to examine his surroundings, and it doesn’t take him long to recognise he is in some kind of office building—or to be precise, the break room. Once that realisation clicks and the appearance of the fridge in the corner registers in his mind, the Trailblazer makes an instant beeline for it—yanking open the door and finding nothing—except one bottle of water which manifests in black smoke right before his eyes.
The man blinked owlishly, prompted by the sight to check for any security cameras. To his credit, there is one; placed on the opposite end of the room, screwed to the wall. It blends in perfectly given the corporate office theme this time, he notes, narrowing his eyes at it. ‘I didn't know you could do magic.’ A light quip meant to garner a few chuckles—and that, it does.
Caelus's joke elicits a laugh from the entity, the voice once again booming at the back of his mind; a deep, throaty laugh resounding throughout the room. Though the Trailblazer wants to say it wasn't that funny, they manage to beat him to it.
Oh, I don't know why I laughed so hard at that. Pardon me. It’s nothing fanciful like that, I'm afraid. In any case, welcome back. You've been out for a rather long time. I figured you wouldn't be waking up anytime soon but, well, here we are. A resilient little one, aren't you?
‘Little one?’
Compared to me, I'm sure you'd agree. Well, anyway... Consider it a one-time thing. Mortal needs are much too tedious for me to keep up with, so you won't be finding any more bottles of water after this.
‘You sound like you hate humans.’
Trust me, I get that aplenty. I won't say they're wrong, though.
Caelus huffs at that, taking out the bottle of water and opening it.
Not even a “thank you”?
He sets the bottle down after emptying half its contents, his sleeve being used to wipe his mouth. The cold water does wonders for his mental and physical health, soothing the aches from before somehow. ‘I feel like I just gained a stat buff from consuming that water.’
What?
‘Nothing.’ Caelus smiles before adding, ‘Thank you.’
At least he knows when to say “thank you”...
The voice sounds like they're trailing off, as if stepping away from the mic, which paints a curious image in Caelus's mind.
He doesn't delve into it further, however, opting to stare at the wooden door instead. There's a small window built into it, allowing him to see into the other office room. It's much bigger, filled with lines of desks and other such knick-knacks. Despite the energy boost he got from the water, though, Caelus can't say he's ready for another agonising round of running to and fro. The strength in his legs is already being sapped away just by thinking about it.
Oh, relax, you. I won't be forcing you on another adventure anytime soon, so quit worrying, yeah?
Caelus wants to ask if the voice can read his thoughts somehow, but he manages to hold back this time. Shaking his head, he makes direct eye contact with the camera—at least, that's where he thinks the entity is watching him from—and signs, ‘How do I get out of here?’
I'm sure you don't need to know how, just soon. And get some rest while you're still here. One... Never mind. Are you listening to me, Caelus?
‘I find it disturbing how you genuinely seem to care about me.’ Even so, the Trailblazer walks over to the couch anyway, getting a huff out of the tired, old voice.
You'll find anything I say or do disturbing, but what does it matter to me? This is just a dream, is it not?
Something about the way they said it puts him off. At first, he finds himself unsure of how to respond, and yet, his hands move faster than he can think. ‘You don't sound so sure of yourself.’
Radio silence.
No. Maybe not. Either way, I think you have long overstayed. Please, I implore you to rest.
Caelus looks at the security camera for the final time. ‘No need to tell me twice.’
In the moments that follow, the world goes quiet. It's then that Caelus realises no other sound had been entering his head except the voices of what the Dreamscape would consider “people”. In such a vast, meaningless expanse, it invokes a strange sense of loneliness in the Trailblazer; one he has never felt before and yet, his body has completely familiarised itself with it. So before Caelus could drift off to sleep, he had to ask, using his voice this time; the efforts of the entity to make him feel safe come to fruition. “If I fall asleep now, do you think we'll see each other again?”
Again, radio silence. It drags out long enough that Caelus is just about ready to accept they won't be responding until…
If fate will allow it, yes. Now please, dear boy, rest.