*yippee to another chapter. Steady progress, let's hope my writing won't screw me up too much, cuz I tend to cook until I fuck up and crack the pan (looking at you Zailo) and yeah, stuff goes down. Enjoy and let me know what you think. Peace out and Deus Vult*
It took him like five minutes, but he managed to partially gather himself, yet his mind wasn't the same since that specific memory struck. It's almost like it got split in two parts, one that sought to remain by his side and one that wanted to flee him and reach someplace that was foreign to him. He shook his head lightly, struggling to see. His vision had gone a bit blurry, and he prayed that it would return to normal.
"Let's just keep going for now, alright? Don't worry about me. Stelle, you keep track of the gibberish I throw around, just in case."
She looked at him with a worried expression, trying to understand what he aimed for, but like usual, figuring out his goals was something a little out of her league.
"I'll try," she reassured him with honesty.
"Are you sure you can keep going, Mark?" asked Firefly, helping him stand. He nodded, saying no more, even if his shaking limbs told more stories than his lips would.
"If you say so, not like you would listen anyway," scoffed Stelle, smiling a little, hoping to ease the tension. He returned the smile, but his gaze was caged in its own world, focusing and unfocusing at random. To spite himself, most probably, he kept going as if he were fine, which obviously wasn't the case.
More walking along the twirling room with walls for floors and weird golden bubbles that helped them walk along against gravity and logic. The dream creatures that appeared stood no chance against them, even with Mark's drunken-like haze. His body felt like it didn't fully belong to him, same with his mind. Whatever was going on in Penacony at the moment was messing with him on more levels than one. As far as his memories went, no such thing had taken place in the game itself.
Finally, they stood before two large doors, exact copies of the ones Mark had opened in the dream where he met Acheron.
"That was close, but we made it..." breathed out Firefly, glad that their endless walking came to a seeming end. "That was strange... The Family insists that the Dreamscape is absolutely safe."
The doors opened, and they walked in, expecting something, but not exactly a jigsaw puzzle in the center of the room. The pieces floated there, and as they were about to fly away, Mark leapt at them and caught them both, holding on with a monstruous grip, clearly annoyed.
"I won't let this world fuck with me anymore. I'm tired of endless puzzles and other bullshit," he growled, smacking the pieces on to the canvas, finishing the picture.
Still, as he stared at the painting, Stelle went ahead and checked out the place.
"Weird, it looks like a child's room in here, with toys and everything. This place is as strange as it can get."
Mark remained silent, struggling to hold together the pieces of his mind that strained themselves in an effort to separate and find their way wherever each sought to be.
"Kid's room... gah..." he muttered, clenching his jaw. The door on the other side of the room was complete, revealing itself to them.
"Ah! The wall has vanished... feels like we're reaching the end...right?" said Firefly, offering a tiny encouraging smile.
Mark stepped ahead, his frown burrowed as he opened the doors. One long hall with another set of doors at the end. Carefully, he stepped along, the sounds of each move echoing slightly in the empty place. Firefly and Stelle came from behind, following carefully. He swung the doors open, ready to hit whatever waited on the other side, but they'd only found a lone chest.
"Er... just one chest? I'm sure that's not a trap. Should we open it...?"
Mark listened to Firefly's voice fade in the background as his hands found their way on the blue container, the chest calling out to him. As he opened it, the lights flicked on, revealing a couple of doors within the room, all of them spread out along the wall.
"Stay close, both of you. I don't like this one bit," muttered Mark, staring around as an eerie song played in the background, a melody coming from what sounded like an old, broken radio. TVs were scattered around, turned on, but they displayed nothing.
"Let's try and leave," said Stelle, standing close, bat out just in case. They walked through the door in the front, only to end up back in the same room.
"The same room?" asked Firefly, confused just like the others.
"Help me!"
The shout was random, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. Mark's eyes scanned around, watching the shadows grow around, threatening to swallow them. With how the other two weren't reacting, it must have been something specific to him.
"Let's try another door," suggested Firefly, almost dragging both of them by the wrists as she held on tight, scared that they would somehow vanish. The group walked through another door, only to be met with the same fate as earlier. More TVs were turned on than before. Again, another door, to no avail.
"Which one was the original door?" asked Firefly, her eyes half-lidded. The TVs were incredibly bright by that point.
"The TVs are so bright, it's hurting my eyes... Careful, something's up."
The cries for help in the background didn't go unnoticed, and Mark simply felt his mind split apart. The bright light had no effect on the darkness that threatened to swallow his vision. He gritted his teeth, feeling his body succumb to the internal agony bit by bit, like sand trickling in an hourglass.
One bright flash of light, then one by one, eyes appeared on each screen. Mark's heart stopped for a second as he thought it to be the eyes of the creature that haunted his dreams, but it was something else entirely, something he could recall, even if faintly in the swarm he called memories.
"This is..."
He stepped forward, his arms spread out, holding Stelle and Firefly behind him as he waited patiently. From the darkness above, a weird being came out, two wing-like limbs spread out, made out of purple, hazed eyes.
"What is this creature?" asked Firefly, but Mark didn't even bother.
"It's on sight, fucker!" he shouted as he leapt at it, powering his body to the best of his abilities. His weak mind wasn't capable of handling too much, similar to a computer on fire with a hard drive that was about to break in half, yet he didn't hesitate. His gauntlet-clad fist made contact, causing the creature to shrivel away in pain. It didn't wait long, however, dashing at Mark with its sharp wing, aiming to pierce him.
"Try me, you piece of dream trash!" he growled, grabbing it by the wing with his left arm, holding it with the iron-covered hand, while the other one moved around to grab hold as well. He spun in place, throwing it into the wall on the other side of the room. Wasting no time, Mark rushed after it, covering his right arm in a thick layer of ice, building upon it until a large, one-time-use hammer was built. He flipped, building power with the motion, striking from above with all he had.
The monster fell on the floor, making some loud screeching noises from the pain of having been plummeted. Mark stared at it, feeling as his mind buzzed again.
"I... what's even going on?" he said, feeling the ice crack and vanish on his arm. He shook his head, looking behind.
"Easy there," said a familiar voice, not from the two who were with him. "I knew there was more to you than meets the eye, but seeing the way you fight, it's truly captivating," said Black Swan, holding Mark in her arms, his head pressed against her chest.
"Rest up. You seem to not be in the right state of mind."
Firefly and Stelle were both on high alert, with Stelle prepared to smack Black Swan, a stranger at the time.
"Easy there, you two. I'm not a foe, but rather a friend. I shared a rather... fervent dance with this friend of yours," she spoke softly, running her hand through his hair. Mark's body betrayed him, lacking strength to move. His mind was the issue, putting too much of a toll on him.
"A dance... are you that Memokeeper I heard of?" asked Stelle, looking at her with a stern expression. She nodded, throwing a card of hers to the side, opening a rift in the dream.
"Yes, I am. You may call me Black Swan. Come on, it's time we all go outside to reality. We'll speak there, and perhaps we'll get to check up on your friend too."
Stelle seemed reluctant, worried about Mark, but he nodded weakly, struggling to stand up and away from Black Swan, who didn't let go of him despite his weak attempts at separation.
"Go, Stelle... just... be careful, she's quite a meanie sometimes..." he chuckled, still trying to fight and wiggle himself free. She didn't let go, speaking in a soft tone.
"My, already wanting to get away from me? Come on, let's get you out. Poor thing can barely stand."
She helped him walk through the portal, and Stelle, seeing no other choice, followed along with Firefly.
.................................................................
Mark opened his eyes, exiting the chill embrace of the weird liquid. He was in the same spot as when he had entered the dream. He looked around, finding no one. Black Swan must have gone ahead with Stelle, which he knew as the scene played out in his mind. Still, he felt his body most oddly. While his vision had returned to normal, the feeling of separation in his mind lingered.
"What even is that feeling? I just feel like there are two sides of myself right now... weird. It's like I'm both spectator and character at once. It's... eerie..."
He moved out, ready to leave the room, until he felt a touch on his shoulder. Pure reflex kicked in as he spun around, ready to deck out whoever was behind with an elbow to the jaw. Black Swan didn't even have time to react, but Mark managed to stop himself just in time.
"You're insane, aren't you? I almost rocked you up," he sighed, turning to face her fully. She smiled, simply leaning a bit closer, staring into his eyes with a playful expression on.
"Can't blame a girl for showing some interest, right? I was worried about you, you know? Go on, make sure you let your friends know you're fine. Stelle stepped out just a few moments before. Meet them all at the bar."
He sighed, turning around to walk out, his hand lingering on the doorknob as Black Swan's arm curled around him, holding him by the middle. Her breath was warm on his ear.
"Be careful, alright? I can't bear to lose whatever precious memories you hold."
He sighed, opening the door as she let go of him. His steps were weary as the sounds from around clashed with him. The hall, albeit short, seemed to stretch out into infinity with each step taken. By his side, she stepped carefully, keeping a watchful eye over him. No matter what he wanted to say, she was looking out for him, even if she had her own agenda.
Mark's eyes fell on the group, which was discussing Black Swan's mysterious nature. As soon as they both appeared in frame, Himeko's eyes fell on them, with March looking pretty upset.
"Look who finally decided to show up after ditching me and Himeko for 'work'.." said March, sounding completely displeased. Mark raised a brow, confused for a second as he recalled the events. His mind was in turmoil, but the sudden recollection made him snap out of it.
"Huh? What?"
He had no chance to even ask questions as Himeko showed him a video of a scene known by him all too well—the dance scene. Black Swan leaned on him, looking at the phone as well.
"Oh, look, it seems like the people recorded our passionate dance moment," she chuckled, pressing her body against his arm. Mark gulped, noticing how a fire burned in Himeko's gaze as she saw the way Black Swan clung to him.
"You were busy with 'work', right? 'Investigating' but I do wonder what you were investigating..." she huffed, crossing her arms. He had no words to explain it, and just as he was about to open his mouth and talk, Black Swan stole the start.
"Oh, well, he had two beautiful women, and he's a rather charming young man. I do wonder what he was... exploring," she breathed softly, leaning closer to his face. His mind was in complete disarray, and while it was a funny moment in general, his mental state couldn't handle it too well. He was speechless, blushing at the inuendo, having no way to even try and save face.
March huffed, crossing her arms as well.
"I guess we'll have to go shopping all alone, right, Miss Himeko?"
Himeko nodded, looking at Mark with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in her eyes. He wished to explain himself but had no time. His mouth refused to open, and even if it did, no words would come out.
Mark grit his teeth, staring at Black Swan with an annoyed expression, anger burning on low heat in his eyes. He didn't want to show too much, but she did seem to enjoy the attention, be it negative or positive. She slowly let go of him, turning to face the others. Stelle just watched from the side, keeping notes of everything.
Mark's sorry gaze didn't get to March and Himeko, but Stelle did catch it. He sighed, taking a deep breath, shaking his head slightly. It hurt maybe more than he would have liked. Simple as it was, a dance, but he did say he was busy with work. In a way, his words were true because he managed to meet important characters ahead of time, while it was also a little something that he wished to take part in, a beautiful experience.
Thus, Mark simply followed Himeko and March with his gaze. The two refused to look at him, and so he made his choice.
"I'll be out. You guys discuss what you know. Stelle has my insight on the situation, she'll keep you updated," he sighed, putting his hands in his pockets as he turned to walk away, shoulders slouched.
"Mark," called out Welt, wishing to discuss with him present as well, but Himeko stopped him.
"It's fine. He seems to have no issue handling himself in this place. Just let him be."
Welt didn't quite wish to let Mark go off, especially since he understood the situation, but Himeko refused to listen to logic. She wasn't stupid, and surely she understood that it was a big misconception, even if Mark had his own fault by not calling things by name. Whatever it was, emotions were at play—something that didn't happen to get to Himeko.
Stelle looked over at Mark, who was almost out of sight, his steps heavy, body bent a little. The signs of fatigue were there—the same things that he tried to hide put out on display. Thus, he vanished from view, off to do his own bidding.