Smoke & Mirrors: Blackriver's Dream
05/04/2006
Logfile from GarouMUSH.
[GMNote: Stacey GMed this dream sequence.]
[Around the Story Tree.]
It's late afternoon - the prefect time for a nap, and Blackriver has come meandering around the Story Tree in hopes of doing just that. She finds a spot under the tree where the shade blocks out most of the sun, and turns around and around before curling up and falling asleep.
The mind of Blackriver drifts into the haze of dreams. She 'awakes' in the city, her stomach rumbling with hunger. More than simply hunger, craving sustenance! But she senses nourishment nearby. Yes, she can replenish her strength. Just around the corner... Smoke clouds her vision, yet strangely she has no trouble seeing through it, and her sight has an odd reflective quality to it..
Blackriver stiffens for a moment when she wakes up, frozen by the bombardment of strange smells. She remains petrified, curled into a tight little ball, until she can't stand her hunger any longer and slowly stands up and begins inching her way around the corner.
Her mind is almost gleeful as she rounds the corner. Eager, very eager. There! There she spots a figure lying, sleeping, defenseless. There she can find what she needs. She can take her strength from the sleeper. She has only to reach out.
Blackriver lopes over towards the sleeping human, caution overridden by desire. She pokes at the sleeper with her snout, and is about to take a big, juicy bite, when suddenly her senses come to her and she stops again. No, no bad! She whines, ears lowers and tail curling between her legs, she takes a few steps backwards, still eyeing the human hungrily. Bad bad bad!
She can feel the terror deep within the sleeper's heart. The despair, the anger, the pain. It would be so easy, so very easy... Who cares about what is wrong? What matters is power, strength, nourishment.
Blackriver's nose twitches back and forth and she licks her chops. She takes one tentative step towards the sleeper, saliva slowly oozing from her gums.
Yes, yes! Just a bit closer! Oh, it would be so good, so wonderful! To be full of power once again. So good to be free now, so much more to feast upon. This one is very troubled. It will not be difficult.
Blackriver is practically drooling over the human, eyes glazed over in hunger. A small whine escapes her throat and she shrinks back a little. No no! Bad, yes bad. Sick human. Sick human bad. Sick human make sick. She tries to convince herself, frantically gnawing on her own leg in an attempt to sedate her hunger.
In a flash, the dream changes. Now Blackriver is the one stretched out on the ground, in her less used homid form. A huge black wolf towers over her, wrapped in smoke with mirrors instead of eyes. Saliva drips from its fanged mouth.
Blackriver is startled at the sudden change, and it takes a moment for her to reorient herself. When she does she lets out soft growl and stares right back at the wolf. She tries to focus, to shift her flesh and bones back the way they were.
The Silver Fang changes easily back into the lupus form. The stench of scab, sickness, and smoke is nauseating to the sensitive lupine nose. Oddly, the Wolf seems even more interested in the feast once it sees this. It steps forward, its mirror-eyes unblinking.
Blackriver scoots a step back, hackles rising. She lets out a snarl at the black wolf, ears flattening and hair standing on end. She's sick of this all, this whole place, pressed in on all sides, and she's about ready to pop.
The dream shifts again. Now the Silver Fang stands upon the edge of a cliff, overlooking what was once the city of St. Claire. Now it lies in rubble. Smoke rises, polluting the air. Gun shots, screams, the sounds of fighting. It's almost a war zone.
Blackriver stares mutely at the burning city for a moment. She turns around then, looking for in which way lie the forest she's used to and for a way out of this hell hole.
When Blackriver turns around, it certainly seems to be the forest she is used to, yet it looks much less healthy, weakened. Dying. She can hear the sounds of fighting within the woods as well. Growling, roaring, snarling. The sounds of powerful beasts locked in battle.
The philodox's ears flatten and she makes her way cautiously towards the woods. She's on alert, ready for any animal that might try to attack /her,/ and keeping an eye out for that creepy wolf.
As Blackriver moves further into the woods, she soon spots the source of all the noise. Two Garou locked in battle. A fierce one. Rage-filled, near frenzied, senseless in their attack.
Blackriver sits down on her haunches and waits for a moment to asses what exactly is going on. She looks between the two and than strains her nose and ears, hoping to catch the sound of scent of someone familiar to her in the sickened woods.
As she looks between the two Garou, she does notice something out of the ordinary. Both have eyes of mirrors that match those of the smoke wolf. The sounds of growls and frenzied fighting can be heard all around now, not just coming from these two.
Blackriver's fur bristles and she growls loud and low. Finally, something in her snaps, and she roars up into crinos, howling out, ~STOP!~
The large of the two makes one last swipe with its sharp claws, striking down its foe, who crashes to the ground with one last yelp of pain and defeat. There are other similar sounds from nearby, but overall, the fighting continues, despite Blackriver's howl. In the very edge of her vision, she can barely make out the shadowy form of the smoke wolf, watching. Waiting. The Crinos that had been victorious now turns toward her, blood dripping from its mouth and claws, mirror eyes staring toward her.
Blackriver growls once again as she stares down the mirror-eyed crinos. ~Go, go away!~ She snarls at it, ~You are wrong! Wrong wrong wrong!~
The Crinos lets out a fierce, roar of Rage in response, and as its mouth is open, a black snake slithers out of it, winding its way down the Garou's body and moving toward Blackriver. It, too, has mirrors instead of eyes. It grows larger as it moved, horns beginning to form on its head.
Well that does it. Blackriver lets out one final howl and throws herself at the black snake, trying to rip and tear it into itty bitty little shreds. ~Wrong, wrong, WRONG!~ She cries out.
The smoky wolf continues to watch from the sideline as Blackriver attacks. She claws at the snake... And the claw wound appears across her own side. She bites... And her own shoulder is bitten. Whatever wound she inflicts upon the serpent appears on her instead.
Blackriver lets out a roar of frustration and changes the target of the attacks. She launches herself now at the mirror wolf on the sidelines, that constant, taunting presence.
As Blackriver turns to confront the wolf, he disappears, only to reappear again just on the edges of her sight. No matter how quickly she turns, how much she rages, it is ever the same. And the horned serpent continues to grow, now towering overhead, flicking out its tongue before it edges toward the Philodox.
Blackriver tries another tactic, she hesitantly pokes herself with one of her long claws, and looks to see if that might hurt the snake.
No, but it sure hurts. And at first it was as though her claw struck glass before her eye was pierced. The snake tilts its head to meet Blackriver's gaze, forcing her to see her own reflection. The eyes of the Philodox... are mirrors. One shattered.
Blackriver lets out another cry and tries to reach out to the snake's mirror eyes and pull them out. She doesn't care if that takes her eyes with her.
As the Philodox pulls out the eyes of the snake, so her own vision grows dark. The sounds of growls and snarling begin to fade. A soft voice echoes in the darkness, insistent, urgent, but no words that the Silver Fang can understand. Blackriver awakens to the familiar sight of the Story Tree within the peaceful, quiet bawn.
Blackriver lays still for a moment, listening to the noises of the forest and trying to hear that voice again. Slowly, she raises to her feet and looks about her and, once confident that her surroundings are as they should be, quickly trots off into the woods, looking back over her shoulder a few times to her sleeping spot near the Tree.
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