caughtinanetwork | 15; rising sun

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15; rising sun

[A peach-colored waterway stretches on for many yards, overlapping here and there like a labyrinth. With nary a crack in the walls, the lighting is dim at best, casting a purple hue on the enclosed environment. The floor is wet; it's been used mere minutes ago, and the smell of sea water blankets the faint odor of blood.

Frantic footsteps.

Clad differently from his usual whites and blues, Walter runs into view. Shirley and Fenimore flank him.

Wordlessly, Walter falls into a battle stance, sliding his dominant side forward and readying his fists.]

You two go on ahead. I'll stay here and slow them down. [Shirley protests, but he persists:] There's a hidden room off to the side up ahead. Go hide there. I'll catch up soon.

They're here. Go. Now.

[Fenimore is obviously a victim of torture. Bloodstains climb her body, and her dress is torn at the hem, though bandages indicate a crude treatment prior. The fear of being caught again is apparent in her hasty reaction as she bids Shirley to do as their alleged savior says.

The girls run away.

Melanie and Stingle appear. The woman has a sadistic look about her, her superiority coming off of her in droves as she addresses Walter mockingly.]

Looks like there's a new knight protecting the princess.

[Walter raises a hand, his fingernails glowing.

Then, looking past his pursuers, he stops. His eyes widen briefly, and the glow vanishes. The memory seems to come to a complete pause while he stays rooted to his spot and points—past Melanie and Stingle; to you, an unwelcome spectator.]

You. Why are you here!?

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[Zelda's first concern is the fleeing Fenimore. She doesn't even know the girl, but it doesn't matter. Walter's defending her, and she's never known him to be anything but level-headed. Besides, Shirley is there too, and the couple times that she's spoken with the girl she got the impression that she was very sweet.

Unfortunately, by the time she becomes properly oriented to the situation, they're gone.

Going in to battle in nothing but a nightgown is not Zelda's idea of a good time, but the woman in particular looks absolutely insane. The situation has her disoriented enough that Zelda hasn't properly realized that this is a dream, and instincts are kicking in. Two strong looking opponents versus an ally of hers, and one that seems to be protecting people at that? What she should do isn't much of a question.]

I wish that I knew. Would you like some assistance?

[That's Zelda in a nightgown.

Walter gives it barely a thought, knowing well that this is a dream. A dream of his past, and one he was perfectly willing to let play out its course until someone just had to lay their eyes on it. He knows how this is going to end; there's a private conversation following this battle he doesn't wish to divulge, even to Zelda.

And this is his memory.

Forgetting his stance, he frowns and snaps:] I don't need your help.

[Gradually, the fact that this is a dream is coming back to her. She's wandered into a couple tonight, and she's cursing her bad luck for it right now.

Should he really be surprised that it's Zelda who saw it? The girl noses her way into everything, it's how she keeps track of events like she does. Generally he seems to consider that a positive attribute.

Understandably, he doesn't right now. If he were to tell her that he considers this a private memory she'd do her best to tune it out, but she's found that her usual tactics for waking herself up from a dream don't work this time around.]

We have been put here together, so we might as well fight together. I won't be able to leave until the scientists deem fit to release me.

[Would it even work? He already knows the outcome of the fight, anyway. It's useless. Pointless. Worthless.

Before he has the time to further voice his protest, however, he snaps to focus at the shift of Melanie's foot, as though the dream has skipped a frame—and a step, as he's neglected to summon his teriques still. Alarm seizes him. The dream won't wait for him—

Melanie's nails glow, then there's an eruption of fire as Walter leaps back. Briefly, he feels the heat of the flames and notes how some of the water on the floor has evaporated.]

[Whether it will work or not, she has to try. Zelda immediately launches into the Song of Storms (with vocals only, she lacks her harp) while trying to put up a barrier around Walter. If the enemy is a fire mage, then she wants to make the area inhospitable to flame. Rain should do the trick nicely.]

[Alas, it's as if Walter's memory exists on a separate plane from Zelda in the same realm. Sure enough, the rain falls and does nothing to douse the fire, which dissipates on its own.

The barrier stands, but Walter doubts it'll work.

Stingle charges. Cursing his distraction—he was more focused in his actual past, he knows—Walter dodges to the side this time, aiming a roundhouse kick using the momentum. It ghosts through the body, deemed irregular by his own memory, but Stingle recoils in another direction, where Walter had hit in the real past.

The man says nothing, not even a grunt. Melanie, on the other hand, is vocal about preparing her next eres, and swinging her hips quite provocatively while at it.

This is going to be hectic very fast.]

[It doesn't work. The barrier around Walter did work though, so maybe...

It's not something the princess typically does in front of people. The Song of Time is one of the secrets of the royal family, but she's invaded his dream and set it off track. It has a tendency to set time right again when used correctly, so she has to just have faith that's what it will do in this case.

She can only hope that this isn't a memory of his death.]

[Since it's a correction, and a force far stronger by its sacred virtue, the dream allows it.

Time, even in such a surreal setting, fixes with a flash. In a manner of speaking, the dream resets to align itself sequentially right.

Then his teriques blossoms forth, thrusting itself toward Melanie, and Walter and Stingle cross blows in the front. The Song accounted for more than Walter's inconsistent movements, having taken in all the time he'd stalled with Zelda; so the battle is a fair way in, with the scales obviously tipping away from his favor.

It's to be expected, as his purpose is to buy time (fat load of good that will do in a dream) and he's outmatched. The next burst of flames cements the fact, erupting just at his feet. As it settles, Walter blindly brings up a fist to punch away Stingle's sword with a fierce glow of his fingernails, leaving his hand bleeding and trembling.]

[It's impossibly hard to stand there and just watch, but since she has no effect on anything in this dream but Walter (and even that is limited), that's exactly what the princess has to do. Any spell work on her part would only distract him, she can't be of any aid at all. The fire and the clanging of a sword takes her back to that final fight with Ganondorf.

It's not a place she wants to be.

Zelda covers her ears and tries to walk away from the scene, but she can't move outside Walter's range of consciousness. Her hearing is far too good to block it out entirely, and all she can do is grit her teeth and pray that this is a fight he survives.]

Edited 2013-02-06 20:44 (UTC)

[The battle doesn't go on for much longer as Walter allows the memory to run its course again, using what concentration he can afford out of foresight on counting down. It was after the fire over to his side—ah, there it is. It's time to leave.

His voice raspy, almost a wheeze, he turns away with a demand thrown at Zelda.]

Don't follow!

[He takes off on a sprint. His teriques swoops in from behind, catching him by the arms to fly him to the safety of the hidden room. Melanie and Stingle follow nigh immediately, with a bark from the former and reinforcements at their back.

Despite his wish, Zelda wouldn't be able to stay in a place out of his memory range, so that rules out many of her choices.]

[She tries to comply, but when she literally gets pulled through the wall of the hidden room while trying to hang back Zelda becomes quite certain that she has no choice but to stick with him.]

I don't think I have any other choice. I don't seem to be able to put myself to sleep this time, either.

[Zelda got quite good at waking herself up during the whole fiasco last year. As naturally curious as she is, she doesn't want to look at someone's private memories if they don't want her to. It's awkward for everyone involved.

That's probably why the scientists do it to them. It certainly provides the emotional reaction they're looking for.]

[Walter grimaces at her unwitting intrusion. He thought he would be able to at least finish this without witness. The powers that be, for whatever the hell reason, seems to consider this a must-watch.

He's already on his knee, the stronger one of the two, head lolling to the side, away from Zelda, in suppressed pain. The teriques has been dismissed. Shirley and Fenimore are present, the latter gasping at something he'd said just before Zelda's "arrival."]

A few scratches?! I'm surprised you can even move!

[His strength sapped by the realness of the memory, he can't mute his own words.]

I'm fine. We have to get out of here quick . . .

[The two girls don't even seem to notice her presence. Zelda turns and covers her ears tightly again, though she knows it won't do any good. She'll still hear every word. Even so, she can pretend that she doesn't hear any of it, and maybe Walter will feel the intrusion a little less keenly. He doesn't know just how sensitive a Hylian's hearing is, and even if he does, if he wants to he can pretend right along with her that she doesn't hear any of it.]

[He notices her actions out of the corner of his eyes, and despite her good intentions finds himself still wary (and weary). Her very presence unnerves him, but logic argues that this is the best Zelda can do. Walter can't resent her any more for it.

He resents the dream as the conversation carries on and he bows, against the throbbing of his beaten body—yet the pain isn't so bad, actually, at least here. It is a dream, after all. The motions are more practiced than anything. His senses are severely numbed.]

It is my mission.

[Shirley says his name. Fenimore is flummoxed.]

Wait, what are you talking about? Shirley, tell me what's going on!

Watch how you speak to her, girl. Do you know who this is?

[Is he going to wake? This is getting too close to privy information for comfort. Yet a part of him still rages at Shirley's protest, and he has no intention of sharing in the shame. Loud and clear, even if he suspects Zelda can hear it (one can never be careful enough no matter outside appearances).]

This woman is the hope of the Ferines. The guiding light for whom we have waited 4,000 years: The Shining One. The Merines.

[He doesn't even look at Zelda's back. The look on Shirley's face is too distracting.]

[Zelda may not know what a Ferines or a Merines is, but his tone gives away the gravity of the situation, not to mention phrasing like "guilding light". In that moment, she remembers the look on Shirley's face when she found out Walter was in the city very well. Relief, but also trepidation. It didn't make much sense to her then, but now it does. The Merines must have an important duty of some sort, one that Shirley isn't entirely sure she wants to face...

And here she is trying to make sense of it all even as she's trying to not listen. Walter was right to be irritated at her presence, Zelda won't be able to forget this conversation even if she tries. Her memory is far too good, and that's even without taking the nasty little desire to have information on everyone to persuade them to do as she says if such a situation ever became necessary. It's something she tries to repress, but the practical side of her can't resist gathering up information when it becomes available.

Having given up on trying to not listen, she continues to stand with her back turned and her ears covered, hearing every word.]

[All goes quiet.

Then, Fenimore speaks up. Softly, as though she's holding something fragile, even almost depressive.]

Ever since I heard the rumors of the birth of the Merines, I'd wondered what sort of person it would be. And after I was captured, my faith in the existence of the Merines grew even stronger. The whole time, I prayed for the Merines to help us . . . to lead the people of the water to salvation.

["But" only hangs in the air for so long. Fenimore's tone is now one of escalating rage, perhaps nailing the reason why Shirley was hesitant for Walter to reveal her identity. Or perhaps not. Either way, Fenimore's shyness has been cast aside as she reacts in bitter anger.]

But . . . it's you! Where were you while my friends were being killed one-by-one?! Living with Orerines? With Senel? [Walter's breath hitches. Even the dream seems to distort for a bit, before straightening.] I have no one left! All of my friends were killed and you did nothing! If you are the Merines, then act like one and fulfill your duty!

[Walter's voice cuts through her venting. Quiet and intense, gentle and severe. Fenimore is a Ferines, and a young victim at that, but he won't allow even her to dirty Shirley's image. To hurt her, when Shirley, too, is a victim. They shouldn't be fighting.]

That's enough.

Walter! Don't you have anything to say to her?

[He doesn't even have to stop to think.]

I have faith in the Merines.

[Shirley's gasp is the last sound heard as Walter crashes forward. So does the memory, falling to darkness and ejecting Zelda with Walter's "fading" consciousness—only for him to wake in his apartment unit, shooting up into a sitting position. He seethes, remembering the publicized nature of his sleep.

Bastards.]

[When she comes to, she sitting in her own bed, SFC in hand, the memory of what she heard still perfectly clear. She doesn't know what to say to Walter. What is there to say? "Sorry I barged in on your life?" Hopefully he already knows that she didn't mean to. In the end, she decides that he would only consider one thing relevant.]

I will not mention your dream to anyone.

[She doesn't say what she heard or not, only that. Zelda just won't mention any of it.]

[He has to wonder if someone besides Zelda saw the accursed dream, wonder if they, too, heard the truth of what he's been trying to hide for so long. After all that commotion about coming off as a socially accepted "human," his dream would naturally, in a fit of irony, destroy that with blunt exposition.

Vatheon has been exposing more and more of him lately. He despises it.

Walter stares long and hard at Zelda's message, before flicking the communicator back onto the nightstand with a clatter. He doesn't answer back.]

[Dhaos looks somewhat confused for a moment. Why is he in this place? And where might this place be? It's most certainly not Vatheon.]

...A valid question, and one I am afraid I cannot answer.

[Walter is far from looking the same. Rather, he's on the verge of appearing indignant while spitting:] Leave.

[No, let him rephrase that, even harsher than before.]

Wake up.

[...Oh. This was similar to the very first curse he had experienced shortly after his arrival. He can certainly understand not wanting someone to see a memory of his, but the way this boy phrased it... It reminds Dhaos a bit too much of the sort of people he hates the most.]

I will do so as soon as I am able. You, however, would do well to ask in a more polite manner.

It isn't a question.

[More a demand, really. He's in no mood to discuss something like manners when figments of Melanie and Stingle stand between them. And he's clearly impatient about Dhaos going now.]

[Not far into the conversation, and already he dislikes this boy.]

You misunderstand me. I cannot simply wake myself whenever I so desire. Do you believe I would be conversing with you in one of your memories were it otherwise?

[How should he know the answer to that?

Walter says nothing, instead gritting his teeth and darting his eyes from the intruder to the two he's meant to fight, then back to whom he deems the more offending party of the dream.

If only sheer force of will could end this. He's already tried, and he's still trying—why won't it just end?]

[If only the other blond knew that the sorcerer is also trying to wake himself up. Sadly, that doesn't look like it will be happening today.]

As our preferred method of ending this seems not to be effective, we have two, perhaps three ways to proceed, although I assume you would rather not take the option of standing here until daybreak, eager to have he gone as you are.

[If that's guaranteed to work, he really would stand around all day. But no, he doesn't have the luxury of that guarantee.

Then Melanie moves, completely and totally unexpectedly, and his choices are sealed, one chosen for him by the force of his dream.

Walter turns and flees, following Shirley and Fenimore's path. Should Dhaos stay behind long enough, the images of Melanie and Stingle would distort before they suddenly take off after him with a number of soldiers at their back.

He just skipped the fight, and the memory is fast proceeding to his own pursuit as he vanishes into the turns and loops of the Waterway.]

[Dhaos would have stayed where he is well beyond the beginning of the pursuit in an effort not to further intrude. However, he fully suspects that if he does not follow, he will not be allowed to wake. And... a small part of him is somewhat curious, even if he's not about to acknowledge it.

And so he walks, tracing the steps of those that hurried along this path. There is little point in rushing; the dream will play out as it wishes, with or without his presence in the thick of it all.]

[At some point, Melanie and Stingle brush past Dhaos before fizzing out of plain view.

Walter has run off-course, going about everywhere except where he should be headed, to stretch out the pursuit as long as he can in hopes that the dream will end in its midst. So the memory continues to reset, with his pursuers passing Dhaos more than once, always vanishing a little ways ahead.

Yet that can only last so long.

Eventually, Dhaos would come upon Walter, alone, with a hand shoved against a wall to keep himself upright. As the memory of the dream dictates, where he had in fact fought, he's in poor shape. As a girl on the other side would say, it's a surprise that he can move.]

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15; rising sun

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