Dream As If You'll Live Forever

**Star** · Mar 18th, 2015 07:57 PM

Where does an Idea begin?

Some people ask when, and when never matters. When is always the same. Where, now that, that is the question. Any Idea that begins with a Lie is an albatross. Either it's going to fail, or it's outcome is as useless as an ocean to a thirsty man. Water, water everywhere. An Idea that begins with Truth is makes no guarantees, other than it's own birth. Truth is inevitable, because it's part of the Soul. Even Sleepers know that. Deep down, sometimes even in places where thought becomes instinct.

Where two became We, there was an Idea. An Idea that came from other ideas, small truths coming together. Inertia. Gravity. See? Even Sleepers know.

The screens partitioned off a corner of the theater, shutting out the visual melange. Metal chair skeletons. A backpack. Some remaining seats. A small desk of pressed cardboard. The bed. All hidden away, behind the dark folding panels. A sheet draped over the top diffused the overhead lights into something soft and glowing. No music. Strange? Maybe. Something about music... put that thought away. Small bonsai trees ringed the enclosure, and it's occupants. Little green, living sculptures, some shaped and cut into Atlantean sigils.

One unfortunate plant had been shaped into the cabal's sigil, which made it look more like a ridiculous Christmas tree than anything else.

Eyes, closed. Focus. Push out everything, even the things We love. The smell of the bonsai. A whisper-flicker waft now and then of cinnamon. The sound of breathing, two sets, slow and even. Ghosts of memories, of how one set sounded. Memories of how that breath sounded, used to yell, to laugh, to cry, to sigh.

We will meet again.

Deeper.

On the edge of consciousness. Stop the hamster wheel. Really. Focus. Not too hard, don't think about doing it, just do it. Do or Do Not. Hush, Yoda.

Deeper.

16 to enter the Temenoooooos! 1.25 hours

**Avis** · Mar 19th, 2015 02:14 AM

Months ago Avis had been asked about taking a journey into the Astral Realms for a quest bent on finding truth and solace. At the time, she really hadn't known that much about them. Basically nothing, actually, and that hadn't really changed, not that much, anyways, but that was why she was willing to do this now. Not just because she might be asked about it again, or because she wanted to finally have an answer for the first one to ask her, but because it had reminded her of an entire realm of existence that she had yet to know. Beyond that, the Astral Realms were places of pure thought, pure idea, a realm that was not trapped by flesh and bone, air or stone, and she longed to know the freedom of such a place.

Likely it wouldn't be what she thought it was. Likely it would have its own flaws, its own dangers, and thus she did not let herself be trapped within uninformed hope. No, her mind was uncluttered by expectations. That wasn't what kept her weighted within her own flesh, mind circling, circling, circling in upon itself. Nor was it fear, or a lack of desire. It was simply the process of discovering this new pathway within herself, one that would lead away from muscle and sinew wrapped around her skeleton, a skeleton with legs crossed and arms bent so that her coiled fists met each other in front of a straight spine.

16 successes on 9 rolls :/

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[09] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	9, 6, 4, 8, 9, 1, 7, 1, 6	3 successes
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[08] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	4, 9, 9, 3, 10, 1, 5, 4, 3, 2	3 successes
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[07] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	5, 3, 6, 8, 5, 2, 6, 9, 5	2 successes
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[06] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	2, 7, 2, 4, 9, 1, 3, 7, 4	1 success
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[05] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	4, 5, 3, 3, 5, 4, 7, 5, 5	failure
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[04] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	2, 5, 6, 7, 9, 4, 6, 3, 1	1 success
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[03] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	8, 3, 1, 8, 1, 2, 1, 8, 2	3 successes
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[02] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	3, 8, 2, 5, 6, 3, 6, 5, 10, 1	2 successes
2015-03-19 01:24:14	[01] Avis rolls 9 to journey within, and without (astral dive: wits3+comp3+equip3) (10 Again)	2, 3, 2, 2, 2, 6, 10, 10, 4, 6, 1	2 successes

-1 Mana for Astral Threshold

Mar 21st, 2015 02:29 PM

White-noise is a hushing, hissing clamor carrying Star on a sine-wave of light and sound away from the real and into himself. The noise covers him, drags him down and for a frightening second, the thought of drowning in it becomes all too real. For the Guardian, it is as easy as breathing to slip away and into his waking meditation; the connections to himself, and the world, tenuous.

Blinking again, Star finds himself buried under a mound of clothes. Skins molted for every identity, every name, the Angel has ever worn. The feeling of a wooden floor beneath the Guardian may reassure. The scents from each different piece of clothing assault. Cheap cologne mix with not-so cheap and sweat mixes with the clean scent of Tide. Khakis are so bland as to not have an identity to them at all.

It is less easy for the Mastigos to fall into a meditation of her own. Thoughts race and zoom across her mind, tugging at the Arrow's attention. The battle of politics and the War of Existence badgers her. There are always plans to make and strategies to examine. Star is long gone before Avis centers herself.

Warmth beckons the young woman to strive upwards. Surrounded by soil, the earthen scent invades her nostrils and the taste of it slips between her lips. That ever inviting warmth above calls to her, the voice of someone long gone and half remembered. Before the drugs. Before the jacket. Before the escape.

The Soil speaks of safety and protection for Avis as much as the mound of clothes does for Star.

Welcome to your Astral Paths, on your way to your Vestibules, representing your first rolls. Since no Spellwork was done in preparation, we will -- by and large do this the hard way. You also, per AR pg 37, may not be limited to your Attr+Skill but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Avis' Mana is not yet spent. I will need three adjectives pm'd to me from both of you that relate to yourself / fears/ hopes / whatever. Three.

**Star** · Mar 21st, 2015 03:40 PM

Everyone forgets that Angels fall.

No.

That's a Lie.

People don't forget things. People choose to not remember things. There's a big difference. Fingers pulled and tugged at what had broken his fall. Wait, no. Broken it? Not on top. Under. What are these things? Things that keep an Angel from soaring?

What's that smell?

Some of the clothes had the stale stench of cigarette smoke. Others, the acrid bite of burned substances. As in, abuse. It took a few moments. To sink in. The khakis, he knew. A couple of concert shirts. A blue sweater that Dr. Huxtable would have been proud of. A cheap suit. Remember that? The ticket taker jacket. Picking pockets at the stadium. Who could forget that? Camouflaged fatigues. They call that Stolen Valor.

You can steal almost anything.

"Avis?"

You want the Truth?

The Truth is, the clothes aren't clothes at all. They're Lies. Not that kind of Lie. The kind you can make go away. They're the kind that were given birth rather than forced upon everything. Every Lie you make, ever Lie you tell, maybe, just maybe, is also a Truth. A Truth about...

Who.

You.

Are.

That's a big pile of clothes.

"Avis?"

Maybe she'd been here already. Seen it. Understood. Left. Once upon a time, he'd wanted her to See him. He thought he'd shown her, just a little bit. But you never really understand, when you're in control. Of yourself, of the information. It's not intentional, it's just a fact. A Truth. That cold vise, deep inside? Squeezing? Chilling?

Now you know what Fear is.

Desperate hands and gangly limbs fought at fabric. Get up. Get out. Fingers tore at clothing, pulling them off.

"AVIS!"

**Avis** · Mar 22nd, 2015 02:10 AM

For a moment she lay there, enveloped in the embrace of the earth, fingers rolling between the granules, pressing dirt against her palms, forcing grit beneath her nails. The essence of broken stone on her tongue teased at her palette and the bouquet of dirt flooded through her nostrils, flowing down the back of her throat to mix with the taste of the earth. The soil, sublime in its solidity, satisfied an unnamed part of her mind, but, as the rough texture of miniscule rocks touched her skin, so did the coolness of the soil register in her mind, and beyond that, the warmth which awaited her above. Such a warmth beckoned to her, she longed to feel it bathing her skin just as dirt bathed it even now, and the intriguing idea that, like a tree she would sprout from the soil to become reborn and whole, nourished and strong, spurred her on.

Hands quested upward, pushing through layers of earth and pulling down handfuls of soil as she began to scratch and scramble her way upward. Feet found little footing, but even so she dug in with her toes, curling and flexing the digits to grip and gather the earth. Slowly, slowly, she pulled herself upward.

Mar 24th, 2015 01:07 PM

Time becomes a meaningless noodle. It stretches and compresses on its own whims. But, on the dream path it is less a concept and more an impression. Here, concentration gives way to impressions writ in the golden thread of the soul.

Emerging from the pile of skins, Star finds himself in a dressing room. Big round bulbs line a warped mirror and frames fade in and out with memories buried and repressed in the Guardian's mind. The dour look of Henry Pym. The look on Omar's face. The gentle wind on his face on a tiny little sailboat. The door out is open, emptying out into a long hallway lined with doors; each one carrying the nameplate of every role the Guardian has played: Nerd, Photographer, Father.

Floors clothed in peeling and broken linoleum leads to one door that stands out to the Illusionist. Even so far away, the sign says it all 'STAFF ONLY. DO NOT ENTER.'

Avis grows from the ground. Her face greeting the sun of a long-ago day in a half-forgotten home. The warm voice embraces her in the sunlight wrapping her in a cocoon of safety. The troubles and the violence seeming so very far away. Green grass plays supplicant to the Mastigos' bending and waving like courtiers. The ground opens up to Avis in a winding dirt path towards a large metal tree creaking merrily in the breezes.

A sign, written in crayon and complete with a backwards S declares: 'NO GIRLS ALLOWED'

**Star** · Mar 25th, 2015 10:44 PM

Words, like violence, break the silence.

He listened to the echo fade into silence. Like tears in the rain. Part of him? Wanted to dive back into the pile. Back to safety. Like a rubber band, stretched, and popping back, every urge to shed the skins turned into a desire to seek refuge in them. Maybe even find one. The right one. The one that would know what to say, what to do.

Because this guy? No clue.

Greenish eyes studied the mirror, stepping closer. Another step. Was that...? Who...? Dread like the soft legs of an insect prickled up, up the back, the neck, to nestle in the base of the skull. This wasn't fun. This wasn't funny.

Those are Secrets.

The hallway. The plaques. Like the pile, but given labels. These? These are Secrets, too. Eyes closed. Some labels, he didn't want to see. Some that were there, some that were not.

What's True?

The Truth is, right there. And there. And there. But also behind the Last Door. Because every role has a stage, and every stage has a director. Who's directing? He turned, walked back to the mirror. Waited. Waited for that one face.

"I met a nice girl!"

Words, like violence. Jerk.

Footfalls carried him to the Staff door. Long, graceful fingers reached out, paused, then turned the handle.

**Avis** · Mar 26th, 2015 02:13 AM

For long moments, Avis stared at the metal tree, her feet remaining firmly planted in the soil. Everything about the land around her, though strange, seemed welcoming and reassuring, warm and secure, but the sign on the tree jarred her. It wasn't that it didn't match, but that it matched too well. Suddenly the space around her seemed to possess a context, one which she longed never to remember, and the pleasant impressions and sensations of this realm didn't change that. No, this context wasn't something she wanted to explore right. Not something that she wanted to explore alone. Maybe once she'd met up with Star again, in the dream-version of their bonsai garden, she'd be willing to go back and face it, but right now she didn't want to. It wasn't that she couldn't explore it, of course, but she had places to be right now, and so she decided to try and find another path besides the one leading to the tree...

Mar 28th, 2015 12:24 PM

Who knows what really lies behind each door? Does Star ever really want to know?

He passes one, near to the staff exit. It is newly painted, freshened up, and the nameplate sparkles. Blood, dribbles out from the bottom, red and viscus, invading the peeling linoleum hallway. What does a Guardian do to hide secrets from themselves?

How much will the Hieromagus forgive? Do Guardians need forgiveness?

The knob is sticky as Star turns it, well used with a small dent on the side. Rapid change in lighting makes the eyes hurt and his nostrils sting with cigarette and cigarello smoke that tickles the nose. Eyes adjust and Star finds himself in a lounge – empty for now – with a single spotlight shining on the red-curtains of the stage.

Groaning, the metal tree bends as though bowing to the winds carrying familiar scents to the Mastigos. No other path presents itselfother than paths she creates herself through the green blades of grass. Warm sun bathes everything, even causing the metal-tree to sparkle in the right places.

Avis' world resolves itself into gentle fields and fluffy white clouds.

Time for those keeping track at home: Star has been in meditation for 45 minutes into his Onieros, please roll Wits + Composure for your Navigation purposes.

**Star** · Mar 29th, 2015 10:57 AM

Nerves jangled, fingers idly wiped on a thigh.

Sticky doors are gross. Clean that, yo. One last look over the shoulder at the other door, eyes falling to the encroaching blood. He'd told him. Right, Omar? Don't hurt that girl. There are lines. Lines you don't cross. Thresholds. Like door thresholds. Lot of doors. How many thresholds, how many lines?

Were some of them from... before?

Everyone comes into this world loving themselves. Eventually, that changes. Peers, society, actions, like little razors. Usually? The paring leaves apathy. It takes a lot more work to come back than it does to keep going. It's bad when you annoy yourself.

The smell is almost comforting. Scratch almost. It is. Desire twitches at the base of the skull, fingers curl up into a fist. Fingers that could hold a cigarette or... a microphone. That's part of it, you know. When love fades? Those moments of failed dreams, failed attempts, hammering and chipping away. Who's to blame when there's nothing left?

It's just a dream.

Take the stage. Take the mic. Watch the room fill. Laughter, applause. Everything would go perfectly. The world needs illusions, to See. The room's empty. What did that mean? That the chance was gone? Acceptance? Warm itches spread from the back of the throat to bluish eyes. How many things was it too late for? How many, Valentine?

Feet finally moved, skirting the edges, close to the wall, looking for a door.

2 Successes to Navigate!

Date	Action	Roll	Result
2015-03-18 19:26:59	[05] Star rolls 9 to Astral! Wits + Com + 3 Equipment (10 Again)	10, 8, 7, 7, 9, 10, 10, 5, 2, 5, 1, 5	5 successes
2015-03-18 19:26:59	[04] Star rolls 9 to Astral! Wits + Com + 3 Equipment (10 Again)	3, 1, 7, 3, 5, 3, 2, 3, 8	1 success
2015-03-18 19:26:59	[03] Star rolls 9 to Astral! Wits + Com + 3 Equipment (10 Again)	3, 4, 1, 1, 5, 4, 9, 10, 10, 6, 6	3 successes
2015-03-18 19:26:59	[02] Star rolls 9 to Astral! Wits + Com + 3 Equipment (10 Again)	5, 4, 4, 10, 2, 7, 6, 2, 9, 9	3 successes
2015-03-18 19:26:59	[01] Star rolls 9 to Astral! Wits + Com + 3 Equipment (10 Again)	8, 6, 10, 1, 10, 7, 5, 5, 10, 1, 7, 4	4 successes

Dream As If You'll Live Forever

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