Welcome to Gaia! ::

((===(fouo)f creepers away~))

The events of Christmastival Eve, which ended up being his welcome to school ceremony, left Titus a little more than displeased. In fact, it was safe to say he was down right pissed off at the world. The nightmare demon had been sure he would be going home and instead found himself stuck at this school forced to mingle with lower class races and reapers who barely registered as scum in him mind. To top it off his Uncle wouldn't even let him stay at his place in Amityville, instead making him live in the dorms on campus. Character building he said. It would have 'fun' he said. It was all a load of s**t in his mind. At least it was race specific but still not entirely desirable.

Since he was stuck in this Jack forsaken place he figured he should look around, get familiar with where things were. With any luck he wouldn't be here long. He had just left the cafeteria knowing full well he would never eat there even if his life depended on it. His palate wasn't accustomed to the garbage they called food in this place and more likely it would make him sick rather than satisfy any sort of hunger. Titus knew this for sure just watching a pudding cup crawl away shortly after it was placed out. DO NOT WANT.

It was in his path toward the library that he came across an interesting sight. He paused in his step, white eyes darting to the zombie leaned up against the wall with his face. For a moment Titus thought he might have been upset, which would have been all the more reason to go over. Terrible break up? Titus was there to let them know just what a worthless and unworthy individual they were. If he hadn't inflicted some sort of self loathing by the time he had left he hadn't done his job. As he approached though he noted the semi-relaxed posture, the closed eyes, he could even feel it in the air. The poor dope was asleep standing up.

"Well, I'll be," Titus seemed amused pondering shoving the poor hunk of scraps to the ground. Instead, another idea hit him. A much more devious plan that tickled his brain with delight. It had been a while since he had truly messed with anyone's dreams, he didn't want to get out of practice. Smiling slightly Titus leaned up against the wall with his shoulder, it might have looked like the two of them were having some sort of conversation together. After a moment he closed his eyes, it was something he hated to do. The nightmare demon didn't like sleep and avoided sleeping himself but he was all for mucking up someone else's dreams. It took him a moment to focus, finding the pathway that was the closest to him that would lead him into the mind of another. The scene began to shift and reform but into what Titus wasn't sure yet.

Titus was not un-accustomed to how dreamscapes worked. Often they were not realistic, a true window to the way a mind could work and conjure up the unbelievable or make things in the realm of reality exaggerated. That was generally what he played on being left to his own devises, guessing at what frightened people most. He wasn't like his father or his uncle who knew how to dig up things in the back of a person's mind, things they might not have known or had forgotten, and use it to poison their dreams.

Being greeted right off the bat by a bright light had Titus squinting despite the fact that it wasn't real. After a moment his eyes seemed to adjust picking out the figures in the light. Reapers in white coats. At least he could assume they were reapers but something in the tone of this dream told him that wasn't quite right. He wasn't completely aware of the hunters, though not entirely blind to the idea.

The battle didn't seem to phase Titus as he moved through the players knowing he wasn't visible to the images around him, at least as long as Mort was unaware of his presence. Instead he looked around the scene of black, white and red wondering what he should play with first. The fire in the distance was something. If anything Titus knew that undeads were weak against flames and so he used his manipulation, bringing the fire closer while he continued to watch the scene unfold wondering what the zombie would reveal to him next. This wasn't entirely strange to Titus apparently, he was certain the nerdy boil played too many games during his waking hours.

The faces Titus saw had no names in his mind. He did not know these people but he was sure to remember them. Surely there were others in the school that had seen them, knew them, even befriended them. It was all information gathering at this point, like this scenario that was playing out. It had an air of personal experience but as Titus feared the zombie played too many games as the scene morphed into gamer mode. Whatever hint of reality it had was lost to Titus in that moment as he followed the zombie through the carnage, walking through the everything with ease.

The fire had billowed up and around him but did not come near as the nightmare demon continued on his path of destruction through this dream. Screams and wails could be heard as the fire plowed on, just as an added effect as the distance between him and Mort became shorter.

"What's the matter, Scraps?" Titus asked seeing the panic as he scrambled for who knew what. "Lost something perhaps? Can't save your friends?" Titus was fairly certain the zombie was just too far entranced with a roleplaying game of some sort and that what was make believe was becoming real to him. He had seen it happen before. "Bad guys got you up in arms?" The hint of the white and gold coat could be seen through the flames, it looked like Titus was going to see just how afraid of these coats the zombie was.

Those pleading eyes. If Titus was a normal being he probably would have broken down and helped. Instead his smile became a little too cruel. "Help?" It looked like he was giving it some serious thought. "No...I don't think I will."

Instead Titus stepped aside letting the Hunter through the now gold and white flames. He had to wonder what game this was from because Titus was no stranger to games but this was a little unfamiliar.

"You've got legs....maybe you should try running." Titus said almost mockingly. Normally when people tried to run in their nightmares they slowed down unable to escape. If they didn't run well....events usually made a turn for the worst.

Titus' white eyes darted back to the hunter curiously as he stepped through the flames. It seemed Mort had taken control of the demon's creation though Titus was certain the being would start to attack Mort. He couldn't help but look the figure over, what he still assumed was some sort of reaper in the game that Mort played. It was odd how it had no features though, just blinding white.

He had not given the creation a weapon but Mort had apparently seen fit to fix that in his mind, Titus' focus going to the glowing blue scythe that seemed to hold more detail than the actual Hunter. This was no doubt the focus on Mort's fear. The weapon. It symbolized the character who held it. The glaring eyes did not escape him but he was not allowed to focus on them for long before the scythe was drawn up and slashed down toward him.

There wasn't much time to react, reality still had its hold on this dreamscape that Mort had created. The scythe slashed through the sleeve of Titus' coat as he retreated back, his eyes darting to Mort and his futile escape. It was like watching a cartoon running in place. It would have been comical if it wasn't for the rather interesting fact that Mort's mind was attacking him now. Using the thing he feared most as his mind's subconscious weapon. "Hurry? I don't think you're getting much of anywhere." Titus mused, though he still kept his attention on the Hunter. It was likely it would try to attack him again. "I think you might be too late."

Using his ability and what little he could manipulate, Titus' willed chains up from the ground. They broke the surface at Mort's feet, wiggling and slithering almost like snakes before they lashed out in an attempt to bind the zombie in place.

((I can totally change this post I just decided on making something funny :'D))

The dream shifted as they often did and Titus watched as the battlefield and fire drifted away. Suddenly the space they were in was enclosed and there was nothing but white as there had been before. He looked to the Hunter that was still standing beside him his features now a little more clear as if Mort was gathering his memories about him.

Then he looked down at himself. What in the name of Jack was he wearing? Where was his normal coat? Somewhere along the line it had been changed from black to white and ....was this a pink scarf? Pink?? It was so fluffy and ghoully and OMJ WHAT WAS HE WEARING UNDERNEATH?

8|

His legs were not cut out for his dress Mort. No they were not. He was far too tall and the dress was uncomfortably short. His only aided comfort was the multiple swords at his side which he was contemplating using at this very moment.

"What the Jack is this?" Probably not the intended question but it was an important one. Being in the dream Titus was still very much an element of it and often forgot things about him could be changed if he didn't keep his guard up.

Stifling a groan Titus leaned forward toward the table, resting his palms against its surface. At this level he was easily able to stare Mort in the eyes. "Really, you're not too late? How so? This doesn't exactly look like you're winning the game." Indeed, him being in this dress was certainly not winning.

Titus grinned evilly despite his current attire, staring the zombie boil down with intense white eyes. The more the boil spoke the more Titus wondered if there was a single person at this school that could speak properly. First Herryk, then Freya and now this poor schmuck.

"Oh you can bet I'm part of this dream now, Scraps." Titus hissed. He stood up and saw he was still dressed oddly and frowned slowly shifting the obi dress and coat back to his former wardrobe. Titus didn't say much else as he took in the frozen state of the room. "You must really be into games, eh? This some sort of roleplay?" The interruption in the dream didn't seem to matter. Most hardly remembered him being there and those that did began to realize the bit of control he had to make their dreams spiral out of control. Only a few were lucid enough to keep a handle on the dreamscape they were creating.