EVENT #12: ADVERSITY 6568654

[expiationmods]

EVENT #12: DO AIS DREAM OF ALGORITHMIC SHEEP?

THE STORY SO FAR (click to expand)

-Over time, characters have discovered that the world of Expiation is actually a large, elaborate simulation run by an AI that seems to be intent on helping them atone for their crimes. This news is well-known by the Chosen, enough so that any new character who wishes to handwave this knowledge is able to do so.

-In September 2024, that AI needed to be reset as a consequence of some catastrophic systems failures. So far, there has been no downside to this reset–but the AI has also been strangely absent since then.

-Things have been quiet in Aldrip since September, aside from the routine arrival of new Chosen. The locals seem less than happy with the Chosen, though, as if they have already branded them all criminals. As if they no longer trust them…

JANUARY 13

SLEEP MODE INITIATED.
LOADING………………….

The calming hush that falls over Aldrip is strangely comfortable, lulling all Chosen into a deep sleep…or a sleeplike state, for those who will. Whatever the case, it is a very quiet night.

The sleep that follows is anything but.

THE DREAMSCAPES

The Chosen dream of memories, in this dreamscape. They can be twisted and altered by the dream world; events can be contorted or made up; but all of these dreams have within them a kernel of truth. Whether they express an event that happened or part of a person’s past that’s gone fuzzy with age, whether it’s a real moment or just a feeling, something about the dream tells you something about the Chosen to whom it belongs. This may even express itself in multiple dreamscapes, fragments of different memories and feelings to navigate.

Fellow Chosen can travel through these dreamscapes, of course, stumbling upon dreams they were never meant to see. But their presence is not without consequence; the longer two Chosen share the same dream, the more the dream will begin to take on elements of both their dreams, drawing in elements from the Chosen who was simply meant to be watching.

They’re vivid, these dreams–the kind that are so clear, one begins to doubt whether it’s a dream at all. Could it possibly be reality? Whether it’s a good dream or a bad one, the Chosen may find it’s difficult to want to wake up. How could they possibly wake up, when this is so very real? Why would they want to, if it’s a good dream? It’s comfortable, and the idea that it may not be reality is intimidating, isn’t it?

It’s so real that you could stay here forever.

A WAKEUP CALL

Wake up.
You have to wake up.

Staying within the dreams too long is a dangerous thing, and those who don’t wake even once before morning will risk falling into a deep sleep, perhaps never to wake at all.

But how to wake them?

Only by convincing the Chosen that they are most certainly dreaming, as it turns out. Whether that’s someone realizing this on their own, or being helped along by someone else, is entirely up to you. But they must choose to wake from the dream, saying goodbye to the dreamscape without any certainty that they’ll ever see it again, and for some…that could be easier said than done.

Once they wake in Aldrip, they’ll be able to come and go from the dreams at will, helping other Chosen navigate their own waking…or perhaps sabotaging it, for those whose intentions may be less than charitable. (But none of you would do that, right? Right?)

Time becomes meaningless within the dreamscapes, allowing the Chosen to pass through as many of these dreams as they wish before dawn breaks in the morning.

The next day dawns as normal, and surprisingly, the Chosen don’t feel any less well-rested from their long and difficult night chasing after dreams. They may even–_

A sea of numbers, zeroes and ones, their combinations meaningless, their forms shifting. Digital artifacts mar the vision, as if the sequence is somehow corrupted. In those pockets of artifacts, one can see something beyond the numbers, something darker, something blurry with distance.
Query: is this what it is to “dream?”
It feels…warm.

_feel refreshed, actually, as if they’ve lifted various weights from their shoulders. Even those who haven’t may find it difficult to linger on the less happy parts of what they’ve seen. They’ve shared quite a unique experience, after all. Better take some time to process it, before they let it weigh them down.

WILDCARD

Make your own fun! Just because it’s not in the prompts doesn’t mean it’s not possible. Have at it! Go crazy! Try not to break anything (too much)!

♡

Comments

[erschlagen]

Some might argue that relishing the brutal, horrific nature of battle does.

[Rosen chuckles as he stabs his spear into another unfortunate beast that attempted to attack him. He thrusts the sharp blade of his lance through the monster's torso before kicking the lance's hilt upward with enough force to cut it in half from the navel. It's an unnecessary, brutal maneuver that results in a shower of colorful ichor in the air.]

Now what's all this about a clone?

[He removes the Lúin of Celtchar from the fallen beast and hunts for the alleged clone. To be honest, Rosen has no idea who these guys are, but he is impressed by Morph's ability to shift into various mutants. It appears that each of these mutants boasts a distinct set of fantastical skills. This reminds him of his fellow arkanas, but Rosen prefers not to think about them.

Instead, he turns to Morph (well, Psylocke!Morph) with a look of confusion.]

If she is in our heads, then how do we get her out?

[mightymorphin]

[The unlucky thing is that Jean isn't among the mutants that got dropped into the hellish pit, not the real one or her clone. The ones that are count among most of the team, though, and they're all still focusing on the fight against the flying demons.

Morph is far more agile in this form, turning to slash through another demon before bounding forward to jab a blade into one demon's neck. The odd thing about it is that the corpses aren't piling up - they seem to disappear as soon as you turn your attention away, making the unreality of the situation more apparent.]

That's easier said than done, she's a powerful telepath! We're lucky she's tormenting us instead of outright frying her brains. That clone might be less skilled than the original, but she has a lot of raw talent at her disposal.

[erschlagen]

A bleedin' telepath?

[Oh, boy. This doesn't look good. Rosen can kill any demon or creature that crosses their path, but a telepath? What is he expected to do if the clone is not physically present? Rosen understands that he lacks the mental fortitude to confront a telepath. Even the strongest warrior has their weaknesses, and Rosen knows them well.]

Let's not give the witch any ideas, shall we?

[Rosen suggests as he follows Morph's lead. However, he cannot help but notice how the onslaught doesn't seem to end no matter how many monsters are defeated. It's like they're stuck in a constant time loop.]

Is this clone also behind the onslaught here? She is working with Mr. Sinister!

[mightymorphin]

She must be somewhere in the mansion! She was - the clone was upset when the real one walked through the door.

[That was a story there was no time to dive into, not while they were still being swarmed by demons. Something about this fight is starting to feel wrong to Morph, but again, they can't quite put their finger on it. Wasn't there something... missing?

There's just no time to stop and think. When one of the demons swoops in low enough to grab their long hair in its claws and nearly yanks them right off of the rocky platform, they respond with a pained yell, neatly slicing through their hair to free themself before shifting back to their regular form.]

Geez, this is why it pays to be lazy! Why bother with hair if that's what happens?!

[erschlagen]

[A scoff escapes Rosen when Baldy starts complaining about having hair. Beggars shouldn't be choosers. Having a luscious head full of hair is a luxury that not many get to experience but leave it to Morph to complain about it. Nevertheless, Rosen is starting to think this peculiar dream is nothing more than a neverending nightmare.]

Stop fussing about your dainty locks and focus, Morph!

[The arkana speaks before striking his spear into the chest of yet another massive beast. He raises his spear high and tosses the beast off like it was day old trash. As before, the monster's corpse evaporates the moment it strikes the ground.]

Don't you think it's strange that I am here? [He poses questions in an attempt to appeal to the mutant's rationality.] I am not like you!

I'm not an X-Men, remember? We met at a festival!

[mightymorphin]

[Look, it's not that Morph couldn't just grow hair whenever they wanted - in fact, they could give themself Fabio or shampoo-commercial quality hair at any moment. It's more that their natural form is their 'casual' look, the one that took no effort because they weren't using their powers.]

But I just had to- wait, you're not?

[A festival? That... sounds oddly right. Was it Halloween? No, the Day of the Dead, in Mexico? They're confused enough that they pause completely, and for some reason the demons ignore them, at least for the moment.

But then they seem to recover, forcing some cheer into their voice,]

Well yeah, but you're still one of our allies. C'mon Odin, why else do you hang out with us all the time?

[erschlagen]

Odin?

[Rosen undoubtedly looks confused. While he is thrilled to be compared to the All-Father, he is astonished that Morph addressed him by that name. It appears that the mutant went out of his way to justify his presence here.]

While I adore the alias, do you truly not remember who I am?

[He asks with a hint of amusement in his tone. This is a dream, isn't it? While his participation in this dream is limited, Rosen doesn't doubt he could alter his appearance just enough to jolt Morph's memories.]

I am Rosenkrantz, remember?

[He asks before having to kick another monster out of the way. The poor beast goes flying off the edge of the platform like a soccer ball.]

You met me when I was being hounded by a couple of overzealous festival workers eager to put me in a costume.

[When Rosen mentions the costume, a pillar of fire swarms around him as he takes advantage of the opportunity to change his appearance. Instead of his trademark red and blue fighting garb, he's dressed as a stunning black nun with a high thigh split on the side. Hell, he even has the habit, cross, and matching black shiny heels.]

Tada~!

[mightymorphin]

But that's your codename, isn't it?

[Morph is definitely confused now; they don't know how Rosen could have forgotten something so basic. They're sure he's fought by the team's side more than once, though they couldn't remember when. But why else would he be here in the mansion?]

Festival? But- aaahhh!

[Their shout when Rosen suddenly changes his outfit is one of pure surprise. Since when was that one of his powers?! Not to mention that it's one of those ridiculously sexy Halloween costumes, and he looks way too good in it...

While Morph is trying hard to not stare too much at his legs, the dream around them has... stopped. Everything has suddenly been frozen in place, as though Morph's mind hit pause on the whole thing in favor of figuring out this new mystery.]

That's right... I remember! It was Halloween! But it wasn't at the mansion...?

[erschlagen]

[Rosen had a strange feeling that his outrageous attire, complete with lacy black thigh-highs, would elicit a response from Morph. Whether it is terror or admiration remains to be seen, but at least the legions of demons are gone. That also includes the hell, fire, and brimstone. The dream appears to have come to an abrupt end.]

Thank the stars I remembered what this looked like.

[He makes a comment while examining himself. The skirt is a little drafty, but he'll survive. All that matters is that Morph listens to him.]

We're trapped in a weird city called "Aldrip," Morph. You haven't been at this "mansion" in weeks, even months.

[mightymorphin]

Aldrip...?

[Morph pauses, their eyes widening as the seemingly unfamiliar word sinks in. That's when the landscape around them starts to slowly shatter. It's like someone's thrown a rock at a mirror, and the result are fissures that spread through the landscape and the false people inside of it, the demons and the other X-Men alike.

It wasn't a pleasant dream to be experiencing in the first place, but something's keeping it from speeding along to its entire collapse.]

But they- what about the X-Men?

[It's with a sinking feeling that Morph turns, turning to look at one particular figure. It's Wolverine, claws outstretched, posed like he was about to leap at one of the demons. The fissures are slowly spreading through his form, the same as the others, making it look as though a single tap would break him apart entirely.]