EVENT - THE BLACK CITY

[faileas]

Event Log: August, The Black City

A STARLESS SKY You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the taste of smog and fog heavy in your lungs - and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that. Unlike the last time this shared dream happened, only familiar faces of your fellow mirrorbound appear around you; and unlike the last time that flavor of dream happened, those native to the city of Aefenglom are nowhere to be found. Instead, an impossibly tall wall raises in front of you; along it run small windows with people peering from the edges, arrows shimmering with the tell-tale glitter of magic peeking from the darkness, with more figures standing guard or patrolling the top of it. The wall itself is made of a dark, onyx-like stone - it's reflective in the smoothness of its bricks, painting all who look into it in clear darkness, and the effect is similarly found in the wide moat that surrounds the city, the faint sound of a river feeding into it the only thing to hear in the tense silence. Only one massive door stands as the entrance to the city, chains hanging across it with the protective runes of a barrier some of you might be familiar with by now. With a groan the chains begin to pull away, the door lowering across the moat as a bridge, and a party of Witches - for they must be Witches, the pins on their cloaks the same as those found in the Coven in Aefenglom - urges the group inside. Monsters find it easier to obey the orders - compelled to, even - but perhaps that's the safety of the city calling out to you, and nothing more.

I. THE CITY ITSELF While Aefenglom is known for its dusk-hued skies, made of lustrous pinks and purples and blues, this city is dreary to the core. The streets are covered in a perpetual fog, not unlike the city you hail from, but thicker, denser, tinged with the flavor of industrial smog from the factories whose spires you can see in the distance. Magitech lights - lanterns above doors, street posts, flickering in the windows you pass - illuminate everything throughout the entire day, as if the sunshine can't reach through the foreboding fog nor the onyx walls. Even the windows are barred, offering a paranoid protection against the outside world. Doors seem hardier, and each building is reinforced and protected in a way that may feel familiar to those that have encountered the protective magic wards. They're heavier, leaving an almost ominous presence that causes unease to hang just as heavy in the air as the smog. The people of this city are just as dreary as the streets, though they do mill about with the same frequency as any city. Unlike the citizens of the dead Aefenglom that were encountered just the month before, however, these are real, living people. They can be spoken to. They can be touched. They interact with wariness and caution towards the strangers that have been heralded into their walled in world, especially those that show what they presume to be monstrous traits. Because it becomes quickly obvious that the majority of the citizens that answer a call, a question, a touch to gain their attention... They're human. a. OBEY AND SUBMIT Monsters that can be seen on the streets aren't few and far between, however. Their presence is subtle, in the fog and amidst the passing crowds of passing faces, but they're there. On a surface level, most of them seem to be fairly at ease. Passive and unfazed by anyone that tries to interact with them, as if they're disinterested by their mere presence in a way that isn't reflected by their human counterparts. A closer look shows a strained pinch to their faces, a tenseness to their bodies, a glazed look just at the surface of their eyes. Too many attempts to interact with them will cause some humans to emerge from shops, or ask that you leave their business; these are the ones that are... employed, most often seen in the shopping and industrial districts. But their movements are almost robotic in repetition, and they never speak to anyone even when addressed - even when a keen eye might take note of the sturdy leather collars around their necks, reinforced by metal and with visible places to attach a leash. Some in the industrial district can be seen with these leashes, powerful chains to keep them attached to carts, to keep them from swimming down the river, from flying away and out of the black walls of the city. All Monsters present in the city are clothed, though it's the ones on the clearly decorative leashes with the more delicate collars that are the best dressed. They accompany humans throughout the city, the same placid blankness present much like their busier counterparts. These are the aristocrats and their so-called "Bonded," though implying the same tone one would take in Aefenglom here will net a deep set of disgust. Attempting to rouse these Monsters does very little, and may even result in them jerking away and cowering behind their human company. b. GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE At one end of the city is a massive pavilion, one made of the same stone as the wall, giving off the same oppressive foreboding. Humans come and go from this peculiar town square with a casual air, an intent the same as a stroll through the stalls on the market street. Because that's, essentially, what they're doing. Monsters young and old put on display to show their abilities and strengths, tasks that range from the physically demanding to performances of artistic abilities. Some seem to be just at the surface of awareness, their glazed expressions refocusing at times with a sort of strained fear that's visible even at a glance. Many don't even react outside of doing the tasks they're ordered to do, going through the motions as a barker speaks at length about them, their abilities, how much their labor goes for and what they cost. These Monsters are purchased by the humans of the city at each display, many of them never wearing more than their basic clothes and the customary collar, a chain to keep them tied to their station with a generous enough reach. Most come and go with very little struggle, but some... it becomes obvious that they've broken through the surface and are coming up for air for the first time in a long time. Wooden posts where the chains are connected can be heard splintering with the force of their struggle, metal bending under pressure, the anxious energy of something about to happen. But the fights never last long, as attendants wearing Coven pins on their cloaks swoop in to attend to the situation - and many dreamers might notice a familiar Witch filtering in and out of the events, speaking to the auctioneers before departing for another selling. It's difficult to recall their face later, no matter how clearly one saw it before, but one thing is certain: while not necessarily prim and proper, this person is someone with a steel spine and a sharp eye. And they saw you, just the same as you saw them. c. AT BECK AND CALL With enough observation, or perhaps even experience, it becomes apparently how this is happening: any command or order issued to a Monster is taken to the most literal, and Monsters have no choice but to obey. Many Monsters employed as workers are so deep in the compulsion that they won't obey any additional commands, unless it comes from the person they have this most warped "Bond" with. Others will accept commands from anyone, even the mirrorbound Witches that have come into their city. Even the most asinine command is one that they'd obey, and one that maybe even you'll obey, too. Having a friend playfully tell them to shut up? They're forced into silence until told that they can speak again. Told to jump off a bridge? Best make sure you specify that you don't want them to jump off of a very high one, if you really want them gone that badly. Handstands, cartwheels, jumping jacks - but also, hurting someone, hurting themselves... one has to hope the Monster in question has a strong willpower, or it's a command that goes against one that's already been issued to them. But something of note is that mirrorbound Monsters of Aefenglom will find that they're also effected by this, though they're better able to fight the compulsion. Those with weaker constitutions may need help snapping out of the command, especially as a powerful command will be painful to fight against, and Witches will have to watch their words. Take care that your friends, your peers, the strangers you've arrived with, don't find themselves attending the auction block - it's a very real possibility in this place, with an unknown Monster unattended and uncollared. It should all be harmless, though. After all, this is only a dream... isn't it? No NPCs are available for this log - unlike with the midsummer dream, they're nowhere to be seen. No Nessie, no Mhairi, no one. Which means that there's no one to counsel them as they find themselves exploring the setting, and discovering that they're just as susceptible as the people in the dream...

II. THE COVEN Unlike with Aefenglom, there isn't a proper Parliament. A little investigation will lead to the discovery that the Coven of this city is the main governing body, which may explain a great deal about why there's such a massive presence of magic here. Located at the center of town - all roads lead to the Coven, a massive stone building with sharp looking spires - the grounds are notable in that there's nothing even remotely similar to the Looking-Glass House that everyone has come to know, despite its secrets. Should one gain entry to the main building of the Coven itself, they'll find that all the mirrors are within. Their main focuses of magic, rather than the more broad spectrum/free-to-study policy that Miss Nessie encourages, are enchantment and abjuration - for control, primarily. They're also heavy studiers of runes, visible across the city and with an even heavier influence in the wards of the Coven itself. They are, regardless, fairly welcoming to eager young minds wanting to learn. So long as the Monsters are left behind. But who's to say that you can't disguise a Monster? a. STUDY TIME Those curious about the Coven's library are welcome to investigate it for themselves, the Witches all smiling faces as they usher their visitors in. But they'll soon find that they aren't really left to their own devices; a member of this Coven branch is practically around every corner, and while they try to be subtle about their observation it becomes quickly obvious that they're not there for their own studies. They're stationed around the library to ensure that their guests don't make off with any of their resources, or try to get into any forbidden sections of the expansive library. Where the Coven library of Aefenglom - as well as the Undermael College's library - plays devil's advocate, with accounts and studies conducted from both sides of the anti-Monster sentiment and attempt to expand upon outdated knowledge... these ones have a decidedly anti-Monster lean in every regard. Any attempts to find otherwise will be met with bemused amusement by the Coven members, and a note that they don't carry such things here. After all, they're certainly not Aefenglom. They would never carry anything that could put their citizens at risk in such a way. Nevermind those horrid Bonds that Bell goes on and on about - it's no wonder that they're always at odds with their government. If only they'd wisen up, hm? Perhaps these new arrivals would like to transfer to their branch, instead, to better guarantee their growth. b. THROUGH THESE HALLS If one manages to slip away from the library without having somebody tailing them, they'll soon discover that the chilled atmosphere doesn't simply linger in the city itself. The halls are cold, the runes unwelcoming unlike the homey feel that Nerissa Bell's charms offer. Certainly home isn't perfect - and there's no denying that the sentiment is shared by many - but the smiling faces of the Black City's branch are at odds with the feel of their magic, the caged in weight pressing down on everything, including your shoulders. The halls are dimly lit by flickering lights, enchanted lanterns with a constantly burning yellow-white fire. Plenty of nooks and dark corners afford even large Monsters the ability to sneak through the halls, should they be snuck in for better investigation with their peers. Take care, however; there are Witches coming and going constantly. An empty room might lead to a study, a classroom, a bedroom. Locked doors don't yield easily, even in a dream, and may need to be abandoned. But a terrible, foreboding feeling emanates from large double doors that are rigidly locked. Hushed voices speak from the other side, and it's almost like the cold feeling that spreads throughout the Coven itself finds its source behind those doors. Periodically, sounds of pain escape from within - but they die out to whimpers, then silence, before they can ever get too loud. A crisp voice speaks only one word, clear even through the wood and the magic: "Again."

III. THE DARK UNDERBELLY There's always more to a city than the streets that you can see at the surface level. If you're looking, it's not hard to spot the signs. There are runes that mark walls and cobblestone streets like graffiti, and a studied eye might realize that they're not the same sort that have subjugated the more monstrously inclined of the Black City. These are intended to dispel magic, and the moment that a member of the Coven notices it - it's swept up as soon as possible, scrubbed clean or scorched off with magic. People take to the streets in small groups, standing their ground and raising their voices above the muffled din of a foggy city. They carry chains and collars that have been broken, but many of them are undeniably human as they confront something that has so obviously become the norm. Break the chains! they demand. Break the spell! Monsters go missing from the auctions with a well-placed distraction - perhaps you're one of the individuals being freed from the pavilion, or someone that's realized that there are people coming and going through the crowds, wearing the same cloaks as the Coven but without their iconic pins, dressed as aristocracy, from all walks of life... smuggling the Monsters away at the first chance. a. PARTY TO PROTEST Not every uprising can be swept under the rug at first sign, however. Witches take to the streets, looking surprised to see the mirrorbound arrivals from Aefenglom - and it's not the same wariness that most would give them. This is the calculating eye of someone assessing whether the person they've met will help or hinder, and some of them decided that you're to be help. Enchanted slips of paper are pushed into hands, runes are taught as quickly as possible in a hushed whisper and explanation, locations given out to Witch and Monster alike with a word of caution. Use the paper on a surface, any surface, and you'll see. Use the runes to break the compulsion - you might have to do it twice, thrice, however many times it takes to dispel the magic. Don't be caught. Using the enchantment as instructed - pressing the paper against a wall, the ground, a post, anything - will result in glowing runes overtaking the surface. It's the same as the runes that are taught to Witches, used to ward against the magic in place just as much as it is to create a statement of protest. If one goes to a location that is whispered to them, they'll find that they've joined an organized protest. It's small in size, a mixture of Witches and unleashed Monsters. Due to the size and frequency it's easy enough to find them, but the guards are very quick in putting them down or hiding any traces of them from the public eye, despite the protesters' best attempts. There's nothing amiss in the city, and nothing for citizens to worry about. b. REST AND REGROUP But they can't find every source of the resistance. It isn't hard for dreamgoers to find themselves swept up by these protesters. Any help is welcome, and those that show an inclination towards helping the Monsters of the city - or their Monsters that they know, regardless people that shouldn't suffer this way - will be taken into the fold. Entrances to their secret routes can be found in places that are hidden in plain sight. A storefront tended to by a Monster with eyes in sharp clarity when they look up from their robotic work welcomes a group of people in and behind the counter, to where a hatch door is hidden in the floor. A manhole cover is pried up, where people are smuggled down below. A portal is prepared, a different and darker destination on the other side. They all lead to the same location. The sewers are vast beneath this city. Much like the labyrinth that many faced in the Midsummer nightmare, it almost seems winding, endless, and the water is cold when it's crossed. But even with the stank of the runoff, the musty and moldy air, there's never the sense of dread, of death. Instead, there are signs of when you're going the right way - runes that shimmer only when looking at them out of the corner of your eye, or when you know what to look for. Three stars together - sometimes overlapping, sometimes circling each other, but always three, and always five points. While they appreciate the help, the mirrorbound aren't invited in by the revolutionaries to the main hideout. But it becomes obvious by charm bracelets, necklaces, piercings, tattoos, embroidery and stitching on shirts; this symbol, and its presence, is integral to their world beneath the city. But many are welcome to mingle throughout their circle. In the sewers, the shops, the small park where a rune gives secret announcements to those who know where to look for it on the third bench, even the homes of people that certainly don't look like revolutionaries, let alone anyone that would be a protector.

Welcome to the Black City! As a reminder, this takes place on August 18th - or rather, 3AM on the August 19th, much like the midsummer nightmare. If you have any questions or need any clarifications, you can ask them here! And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere. Characters are allowed to try and start fights in the city, create prompts based on the information given instead of using the ones given exactly, and poke their noses where they don't belong - we encourage it, actually. But regardless of what you choose, we hope you have a good time!

And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.

Comments

[proficience]

[Considering the nature of their bond, it should come to no surprise that Dazai starts to sense Oda's presence before he gets close; however, he's incredibly fatigued, thanks to the changes he'd undergone, and performing any action at all is --

Well, it's difficult. But he does, at least, manage to open his crimson eyes and glance around, in an effort to see if he can spot his closest friend. And he does; the sight of him alone causes Dazai to smile, but weakly.

If he isn't careful, he'll get caught, too. It's clear that monsters have a disadvantage here, and Oda is, unfortunately, a monster.]

Careful.

[This is all he whispers at his friend, as his eyes focus on a few other witches who are now looking his way. Is one of them going to buy his 'freedom'? He'd rather not be stuck with debt to anyone, save for his friend.]

[notawriter]

[He frowns slightly at the sight of the witches approaching to appraise the new arrivals—more specifically those eyeing Dazai. His jaw sets as they look his friend over. They're not quite admiring him so much as determining how to put him to work.

"Hahaha, watch this!" One of them says before spitting dangerously close to Dazai. Then turning to him, the witch commands, "Get on your hands and knees, and clean that up!"

Oda's stomach turns, his brows knit, his nose wrinkles, and his upper lip almost quivers in disgust. Still, having himself heard the witch as well, he struggles with all his might to not comply with those instructions even as his muscles twitch with the need to kneel down...]

[proficience]

[His warning was too late. Before even having the opportunity to look around further and potentially signal for a place Oda could run off to, Dazai is spat at. Not directly, as nothing actually hits him, but it's dangerously close to his feet. He furrows his brow and looks toward his friend, shifting his head slightly in an attempt to say 'go, I'm fine,' but while doing that, the witch orders him to clean up the spit.

Which, normally -- he wouldn't even consider, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, he starts to drop to his knees, which are shaking at this point, and his hand brushes the moisture off of the ground. Wincing, he glances upward, and is very frustrated to see that Oda is still there.]

Don't -- [He starts, directing his words toward the witch:] do a thing to him. Give me orders, do whatever you want to me. [His words are fairly quiet, due to an overall lack of energy, but he still sounds serious. Oda is not just his closest friend, he's more than that, especially if he takes what they'd done after their bonding ritual into consideration, which he does. That evening was not only important, as it was their first time really connecting since their reunion, but it was also a time where Dazai was able to truly show his emotions for the second time in his life.

He cares for Oda tremendously, and he will not allow for anything to happen to him on his watch. Not ever.]

[notawriter]

[Certainly Oda feels some compulsion to comply, but Dazai? He gradually carries out that order even though he normally wouldn't.

Resisting the need to follow that order himself and watching Dazai, Oda's brows raise slightly and his eyes widen when he hears the witches laugh. They laugh and hoot at the weakened vampire sinking to his knees to do their awful bidding.

"Isn't that great?" The witch grins, his features brimming with contemptuous delight. Turning to one of his friends, "Hey, you try it."

There's a dullness in Oda's head before his brows lower and pinch together, his eyes shift into a hard stare, and his lips press into a thin line. He takes longer, deeper breaths simply to maintain clarity over the bright fog in his mind. It's only when he hears Dazai's lowered voice that Oda realizes it had taken all his effort to remain standing in one place.

However, neither Oda nor the witches fully made out Dazai's words, drawing that first haughty witch's attention. "Oh, what was that? Speak up!"

In the blink of an eye, Oda's arms are protectively around Dazai.]

He said, "Shut your damn mouth."

[Carrying Dazai and his heavy chains unfastened from the auction post, Oda tries to make a run for it. But he's only a monster, and he'll only get so far before being stopped in his tracks...]

[proficience]

[Perhaps all of the commotion and terrible orders given by the witches have drained Dazai's energy; or, perhaps the quick changes into a vampire have taken most of his energy away. Either way, he's exhausted when the first witch demands he speak up and repeat what he'd said, and so he barely manages to open his mouth and re-close it before Oda swoops down and envelops him in his arms. Dazai's eyes focus on his, and he musters up the energy to mouth a 'thank you' right before he's picked up and --

The two of them are on the run. Which, he knows, is a terrible idea; there's an excellent chance they'll be caught and something could happen to them. He's not worried about himself. He's worried about Oda.

Breathless, thanks to being so drained, he quietly states:]

This is -- a bad idea, Odasaku. Especially with what you'd -- claimed I said.

[He's smiling as he says this, because even though he's aware this is a bad plan, he's pleased with Oda's inability to comply with those witches. If only he were able to do the same.]

Something in me -- couldn't help but follow their orders. I'm just happy they hadn't gotten to you.

[notawriter]

[The witches stare frozen in shock while Oda hits the ground running. The main witch guffaws before saying bitterly in a low voice, "You. Are going to regret that..."

...

This isn't want Oda'd initially had in mind, but he can't simply stand around watching as his friend obediently cleans the witch's filth.] —I know it's a bad idea, I can't help it.

[He gives a small smile, but it's short-lived.

"Stop right there!" The first witch barks at Oda, whose body stops moving completely. Oda's mouth drops open, his brows rise, and his eyes widen.]

—!!!

[Oda can hear the witch's slow step as he approaches them from behind.

"Drop it," the witch commands.

It?!

No, Oda won't. Dazai is not an it.

"You heard me."

Sure Oda heard, but he. won't. listen. His brows furrow with his effort, his eyes narrow with focus, and he clenches his teeth and groans against the physical pain of resisting, understanding the meaning of the witch's words but refusing to accept them.]

He is NOT — an it.

[Oda had barely managed to grind that out in a low growl as he fights his body and clings to Dazai as much as he can.]

[proficience]

[In a bit of a haze, Dazai takes a moment for the witch's words to register. He's not particularly surprised that he's being referred to as an it, since he was just up for auction. Not that he agrees with the assessment, of course, but to make a fuss over such a thing isn't smart.

Oda is usually very smart, save for the one time he'd went off to his demise, even against Dazai's pleads for him not to.

This is reminding him of that.

He sighs and tries to kick his legs around to force Oda to let him go. He's thinking that he'd be fine if he's dropped and taken back onto the auction block for the time being, since that's better than Oda being caught. However, the thought that even if he were to go back to those witches and ultimately to the auction block doesn't necessarily mean that Oda is entirely safe from punishment, himself, crosses his mind. He did 'steal' him from the auction, after all.

It's a bit of a bind, to say the least.]

Let me go.

[This is a risk he's willing to take.]

I'll talk my way out of this. It's fine. I've been interrogated and tortured before. Just -- let me go and run.

[The words abandon me again run through his mind for a moment, and he tries once again to kick his legs.]

[notawriter]

[Dazai had once told his subordinates what would happen if Oda was ever truly angered from the bottom of his heart—Dazai claimed everyone in the room would be dead before they could even draw their guns. He didn't exclude himself from this claim.

True anger drove Oda to attack Mimic's base and kill Gide. And if he were to see Gide again, surely Oda would kill him once more despite reaching a mutual understanding in the singularity of their gifted abilities.

As Dazai struggles weakly in his arms, Oda glances at him and frowns in reluctance. He eventually relents, allowing the other man to kick off him and fall unceremoniously to the ground. Oda isn't quite that angry just yet, but that could easily change.

The approaching witch stays a safe distance behind them. "Ha ha, would you look at that? It knows what's good for the both of you. Now, get down on all fours."

Oda's eyes narrow as his resistance wears down and he grudgingly gives in to the witch's orders.

The witch smirks before turning to Dazai. "Hey, fallen vampire! Stand up and state your name."]

[proficience]

[Unfortunately, as Dazai had expected, Oda isn't permitted to simply run away and leave once he lets him go. This is frustrating on many levels, but the primary one is because Dazai had only insisted on being let go so his friend could leave. Since it's clear that won't happen, visible annoyance washes over his face. That annoyance starts to shift into anger when he hears the order directed toward Oda.

He'd already vowed to himself that he wouldn't let anything happen to him, and now he's about to (supposedly) be forced to repeat Dazai's action from before he was carried.

Plans and ideas run through Dazai's mind as much as possible, while he still suffers from a strong lack of overall energy. However, before he knows it, he's given an order, too.

So, he stands. That's not a problem; he'd wanted to do so, anyhow, even if his legs are weak and are trying to fight him from standing without swaying at all.

Name. He has to state his name. He really, really doesn't want to, but --]

D-

[He plants a hand over his mouth as he follows that order, his name muffled to a point where nobody could understand it. Once it's technically said, he lowers that hand and says:]

Order me to do that. Let him leave.

[notawriter]

["Not a chance."

The witch moves into their personal space but still has enough room to back off if necessary. While motioning for help to chain Oda up, the witch raises his foot behind Oda before kicking him forward, sending him to the ground with a hard thud. "Lie there and eat dirt."

Still, Oda stubbornly struggles against the witch's orders. Oda's hands go to his face and clap over his mouth before he can open it to quite literally eat dirt. Oda tries to get up, the balls of his feet pressing into the dusty ground.

Reinforcements should be arriving soon enough, so Oda has to get out of there if he doesn't want to wind up in chains.

The witch laughs before turning to face Dazai again. "You should be licking my boots in gratitude for taking care of you rebellious little asses." He clears his throat. "As I was saying, state your name. Aloud, so we can hear you."]

[proficience]

[He has very, very little energy, but hearing that response from the witch somehow sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through his body. Which means that he's quite angry when he hears and witnesses Oda be forced to eat dirt. It makes him sick, so much so that his hand instinctively clenches into a fist, and he lifts it up, stepping a few feet forward.]

I guess I shouldn't attempt to negotiate with you.

[He steps forward again, his expression clearly full of anger and disdain for this witch. There was one thing he'd hoped would happen, and it didn't. Oda wasn't allowed to leave. He's now on the ground, eating dirt, doing something he should never have to do.

As strange as this world is, Dazai had a dream. A dream of seeing his closest friend live a happy life. A dream where he was alive. They were alive.

He's not going to let this witch ruin that.]

Dazai.

[He'll provide a distraction for Oda to run. That's his plan. It's not his best one, but it's all he can do.]

Dazai Osamu. [He takes those last few steps that close the distance between himself and the witch.]

Take me back into your custody. Do what you will.

[He relaxes that fist and holds both arms in front of his body, as if to show that he intends no harm. Glancing back, he takes one last look at his friend.]

I won't negotiate. But I'm worth more than he is. You only need me.

[notawriter]

Nnnnnghooohh, donnnn't... [Oda growls in protest of Dazai giving up his name but knows Dazai wants to give him an out. If he can, he'll take it and come back for Dazai later. But it's a big if, and things don't look too good right now. Between the hideous compulsion to obey the witch's orders and his own struggle against that despicable urge, Oda's as good as pinned to the ground.

Meanwhile, the witch scoffs at Dazai's assertion. "More important? Hah! As if that's even possible when you're all the same." As the witch's friends from earlier catch up with him, the witch jabs a finger in Oda's direction. "Now, Dazai Osamu, lie down on the ground just like your friend, and wait patiently for your chains."

Just as he commands this, his friends move toward Oda, ready to chain up his wrists and ankles. "Hey, relax. Calm down."

...Oda will NOT calm down. Maybe his body will, but his mind certainly won't.

He'll remember this.]

[proficience]

[That plan clearly didn't work as Dazai had hoped it would, and before he knows it, he's on the ground awaiting those chains. It's as if he can't even fathom fighting against those verbal commands for some reason, as if he has a gun aimed right for his head.

Unlike when he was younger, however, he doesn't want to die now. He has a purpose, he has a reason to live. Which means that he has to ensure Oda makes it out of here in one piece. He turns his head to awkwardly watch the witch and his friends head toward Oda, his teeth instinctively clenching together. He doesn't even pay any mind to the fact that his newly formed fangs are digging into his lower lip. The blood doesn't bother him. What does is this entire situation. A situation he should have been able to talk his way out of.

He shifts and sits up before any of the witches can make their way to him, in an attempt to garner their attention.]

I'll leave! I'll run away and leave! You can't stop me! [If this plan seems incredibly foolish, it is. He's simply trying to give Oda one last chance to try to run, putting himself on the line to do so, obviously. He does note one of the witch's friends coming right for him as he yells out that last word, understandably causing his heart rate to spike.

This could work. Scooting forward, he pushes his side against a rock and hoists himself upward, beginning to run as fast as possible away from the scene.]

[notawriter]

[That first witch angers at Dazai's attempt to escape. With the shape Dazai is in, how far can he truly get anyway? The witch stomps forward furiously, heading toward the vampire and moving to yank his shirt collar. "You can't—you WON'T! You'll stay right here! Better yet, maybe I'll buy you myself! "

Despite all Oda's kicking and struggling, the witches manage to put him in chains. "Now, sit down and shut up so you won't have to eat dirt anymore."

Oda does sit down, relatively quiet and subdued. But the dark look in his eyes suggests payback. Maybe neither he nor Dazai can do anything right now, but these witches will regret this. Oda casts a narrow-eyed look upward toward his captors and burns their appearances into memory for later.

This may be a dream, but like the last, it may have roots in reality.]

/end!

[proficience]

[When he's grabbed by his shirt collar, Dazai's breath stops for a moment or two, as he realizes that resisting this is futile. All it will do is cause the both of them to suffer even more than they have been, and while he can handle whatever they throw his way --

He's ultimately concerned about his friend.

Who, he can see, is now chained up again. The plan to run away and cause a distraction didn't work. Dazai is out of plans. Plans and time.

He slumps forward and sighs, wiggling his fingers just a little as he feels his wrists become tied together.]

You win.

[He breathes those two words quietly at the witch, resigning himself to this (temporary) fate until he and Oda awaken. He just hopes that this encounter doesn't linger in his friend's mind when that happens.

He can't kill again. Or else -- his dream will never come to fruition.]