Welcome to Gaia! ::

Goddamnit.

Crawley's right hand wedged itself under his a** to clench the thumb of Gailles' left hand by feel and jerk it down and back to persuade his hand -through pain- to open and release his pants.

As he continued to hold the hand he thrusted his left palm at the guy's face to drive him further away, at least far enough that he could release the lock he had with his legs and push him away by thrusting his left foot at Gailles' chest.

Crawley... rolling back overhead to a low three point stance again.

Crawley put his fists up over his chin again and charged in somewhat low, but there was no sign he was gonna open up and punch. It was like he was just gonna run and bash himself into the guy at the torso section.

Crawley's fists came up as his forearms quickly forced themselves as hard as possible against Gailles' right knee. But that was shortlived as he quickly experienced one of those.. flash of darkness.. and stars type things from an elbow to the top of his head.

His charge stopped as he collided with the guy, only to grit his teeth and charge in again, diving quickly to Gailles' left side and throwing his arms around to hug him at the waist as he burried his face into the left side of his torso.

This was followed by an explosive back bridge to send the guy overhead, crashing top first into the ground.

Crawley tried to rise back up right out of the back bridge in a show of strength and flexibility but as soon as he did he caught the sharp pain and rolled over on his head to the right and made his way to his feet but in a lower, protective stance with his forearm pressed against his side.

"..."

Magic was hard to deny. It was all over Gaia, to the point where it was almost a normal fact of life for any citizen of it that it existed. He didn't have to be comfortable with it, but it most certainly existed. There were other things that he'd never had any reason to believe. Prophecies and talk about fate and the end of the world was clearly bullshit and superstition half of the time, and the rest while maintaining a more plausible face had never proved true on him. He'd never believed that he was here with some predestined force, whether he should think that made him better as a part of something larger, or was daunted by the control. Not quite disregard, but extreme skepticism had served him plenty well, and he'd proved the world a fool time and time again on Gaia.

It frightened him terribly to suddenly have lost that, though in the days and, more importantly, nights since he'd come to some level of a level of balance.

At first it was just the concept of a repeat of what had happened with Kael that had frightened him, but Rayner had recovered from that surprisingly quickly as greater parts of his dream became lucid moments. He began to realize that the one shocking part that had stuck out in his head was not terrifying. No, somehow, that nameless man was his friend. It was a comforting moment if anything. Almost painful to hear, but a comfort none the less.



The man had struck a chord within him on many levels, passing right on down the similarities he couldn't help drawing between them to his request. He hadn't been done. And all he wished for was that he'd had time to make a difference, to make things better than they were.

A sour taste. Not long before, it had been exactly his own feelings.

Almost as if replaying the clip of dream that he'd committed to memory in his head was a cue, he slipped into a fog which he quickly struggled to shake himself free of. The dream had been recurring practically nightly in the most recent days, where it had once haunted him only on occasion enough to note. He'd been waking during the night from it, rather than coming to in the morning remembering, more and more often. As if the chilling gaze should not have been enough every time, it was not the great red eyed figure that frightened him half so much as the smaller ones the other man had slain. The ones he'd seen in his own time.

Something was coming in his own time. He'd seen the shades heralding destruction in his waking and he'd seen it in his dreams. He'd heard the talk about just what the Forgotten meant to do, to swallow all into oblivion, but that had been foolishness to his ears then. At this point, he couldn't deny it anymore, with one confirming the other. That force was reawakening.

And he'd run from the fight. Worse, should he manage to enter the fray once more, he had no idea what he could do to really change things but to attempt to cut down each and every last shade.

It was a terrifying, frustrating prospect to entertain.



Just what had tortured the commander, he was there, though maybe it wasn't too late yet.



The dream burned at him with a greater guilt and anger than even the times he'd woken from his sleep convinced the actual Kael was taking him over one more time. It didn't help that where he had chosen to flee, his friend had followed that sorrowful man despite all cautionings.

He nearly fell on his face when he stepped into a small ditch in the ground, and it seemed a great effort to right himself and get back on his feet.

He was dressed to ward off the long grass and the biting flies and beetles, but the tall boots, thick jeans, gloves, and jacket with collar turned up only helped for his body. His mind was what was feeling scraped at and torn, and you couldn't dress to right a loss of sleep or weakened will. He wanted to flee that hand of fate and avoid another force taking him over with a desperate fear, and yet he desired to help that man find his place, to protect those he still could... to make a difference.

And so torn all the way from Strata back he'd been unable to immerse himself in the pleasure and hide away again, nor join his former allies in what he hoped was still a fight with some odds to it. All he'd been able to do is wander, strapping his sword to his belt as if he went to fight, and letting his feet carry him beyond everything.

He trudged on through the flat expanse, barely looking more than forward, bags under his eyes. As long as he was helpless to do anything, he couldn't pull himself to carry on, nor force himself to let go.

Rayner was just lost.

His foot stopped midstep, setting down amongst the grass as Kael forced his eyes to focus. Looking toward the sound, he slowly turned in place and watched, almost captivated. The fact that the man had seemingly crept up on him to just suddenly burst from nowhere with that first pronounced line, combined with his mind's starving for sleep.

He peeled his eyes, but amidst the grass, his vision was hardly sharp enough to make out the man's coat, never mind anymore.

The lines caught his attention, at first befuddling him and puzzling his mind as it worked harder than it normally should have had to, taking in and digesting them all. Perhaps just thanks to the dreams haunting him, on the rolling plain he could almost see the tents sprawling out, pressing grass down- and the shades tearing their way in amongst them.

He could almost hear all the other voices whispering warnings and hints, spelling out that thing he was still afraid to believe in for him. The Forgotten.

Much as everything seemed somehow numbed, it was almost a shock- a wake up call- to have the man turn and see him. Numbly, he nodded a greeting back to the man. He looked at the man a moment, feeling like he was staring, and then sharply rubbed at his eyes, trying to get himself to feel a bit more awake and alert. It didn't help much, but he tried to gather himself up and just force himself to function even though his body was only telling him to sleep.

That strategy hadn't worked so well so far. With sleep came dreams.

"No, not really,"

He looked at the man curiously, and glanced toward the book, if there was infact one.

"Just been looking for some peace. Those passages- you're interested in some battle that happened here?"

"Something big, huh..."

His eyes lingered on the book. Not being particularly scholarly, it seemed natural enough to him, but something he could not quite place held his attention, teased at the back of his mind. There was something more than he was seeing.

Finally, he dismissed the book and raised his eyes, nodding uncertainly to the other man. Almost automatically, he took his hand, a firm grip, and one slow motion. He didn't answer right away though, rather pulled his hand away. Kael raised it slowly and set his thumb and index finger to the bags under each of his eyes, rubbing firmly. His mind was scattered, but he forcefully collected himself, and when it lowered he simply smiled back.

"Historian and engineer, huh? Kael. S'pose I've dabbled in those fields myself."

He followed the man, though right from the start he lagged behind as Ford took off eagerly. Spurring on to catch up, the sense of strange familiarity hit him almost like a strange wave, mixing with the state of forced clarity through sheer will past his exhaustion that, should he have had mind to consider, he might have compared to a dream.

Almost as he hit the top it seemed to engulf him fully, and it was almost greatly puzzled that he realized that he did not recognize the complex stone formations set up down below them. His eyes grazed slowly over them, taking them in, trying to figure out just what it was that they made him think of. Everything, it seemed, was playing games in his head. Something tickled his brain... and then he noticed the other man.

Kael stared a moment, to be sure, and then he was moving quickly down the side of the hill, nearing the bottom by the time he turned his head and-

"For-"

He skidded to a stop at the foot, staring up at the empty horizon up above and behind him.

Gone?

Strange. One hesitant step forward, and then he was moving quickly, not quite running toward the man amidst the stones. As he grew near, he'd finally raise his voice to call over to him.

"Are you hurt?"

As the pirate cosplayer stood there in a clearing within the sea of grass, the sun beating down on him, something appeared in the distance amongst the waist-high vegetation. It was hard to see what it was in the glaring light, but it appeared to be a stick or staff of some sort, moving of its own accord.

It drew closer, wandering back and forth across his field of vision, left to right in wide and sweeping strokes.

Beginning very quietly, but getting louder as this apparition neared the man, he would hear music. The thing crossed to the far right

Duuuuuuh nuh . . .

It sounded like some sort of string instrument, being strummed. It crossed to the far left

Duuuuuuh nuh . . .

Now that it was closer, it appeared that thing the staff or stick was actually . . . the neck of a guitar? It stopped directly ahead of the man, and seemed to swivel to 'face' him.

Duh nuh, duh nuh, duh nuh

It started moving directly towards him, cutting through the grass quickly as the music got louder and louder.

Dun dun, dun dun, dun dun, dun dun
Duh nuh NUH, duh nuh NUH, duh nuh NUH

Now, a dark mass was apparent at its base, and it was only moments from emerging into the clearing.

Dun dun, dun dun, dun dun . . .

It stepped into view, revealing itself to be . . .

DUH!!!

. . . a Domo?

Indeed, it was. A small creature with a rectangular body covered in short brown fur looked up at him with a pair of beady black eyes. It stood a little over three feet tall, carrying an electric blue Fender Stratocaster guitar in arms that were unusually long for a Domo, and that was apparently what the source of the music had been.

As if this weren't ridiculous enough already, the Domo possessed a black goatee with a thin mustache and . . . a Domo-sized afro.

lolwut?

"Rawr rah rah rawr?" said the little creature, exposing a bright red mouth lined with triangular razor-like teeth, designed for optimum kitten-munching capacity, as it raised a furry little arm to point at him.