Hello Darkness My Old Friend [Open to Multiple]

[has_a_horn]

The world is dark and there's a war in heaven. The blackness of the scene is deep, lit only by the graceful, inhuman figures of his brothers and sisters. They dance viciously, hands clasped around long silver blades, slashing as they turn and evade. They bleed light and die like a star going supernova. Gabriel stands trembling, watching. If it wasn't so horrible, it might be beautiful.

He's wearing the same vessel he has been wearing for so long now-

Briefly, the scene shifts. He's kneeling before this vessel, a hand cupping the slightly stubbled chin. He'll shave properly, when he takes it. The man smiles, nods. It looks so sincere.

Gabriel smiles back, in awe of him.

-except he can feel the weight of his wings, the power contained there, his own potential for destruction. Behind him, they sweep up at least twenty times his height, closed in and tight against each other, a gigantic extension of his own horrified posture. Next to any of the rest, he would look so small like he is now. Inconsequential. Still, they'll want him to join in, soon. Michael will come looking, or Lucifer. Enough will have died that he will be needed on one side or the other.

He wonders if this slaughter is really what God wanted, then chastises himself for thinking it. He should fight for heaven, for God. Another supernova lights up the black canvas. A triumphant shout echoes back to him along with a ghost of bright piercing pain. How can they deny the feeling that quakes through them with each death? Is he the only one?

He can't bring himself to take a single step forward. Instead, he drops to his knees and prays. The sounds of his prayers rend the air around him, harsh, beautiful, and useless. No one turns to him, and God isn't listening.

He searches for something, any feeling in the darkness that isn't this, isn't here. When he feels something, he pulls on it like a lifeline.

[[ooc: Gabriel has passed out following events that will be happening in this thread. He doesn't have control over his dreaming, and chances are he won't know he's dreaming most of the time, so expect horror, and expect him to take over the dream.]]

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[wildmage_daine]

At first, Daine doesn't dream. She was all used up after returning to the base, and she'd fallen into a sleep too deep for dreaming.

Now, though, she's being pulled out of the dark. It's a strange sensation, but not entirely unfamiliar, and she sees the ocean floor peeling away below her at a fantastic speed. She must be returning to Pirate's Swoop, and the thought fills her with delight and sorrow in equal measure. Sorrow, she supposes, because the kraken won't make it in time to break the siege - but why delight?

Then she remembers New York, and the strange tug takes on a different meaning as the ocean melts away. Is it the rift? Is she really going home? Her limbs move sluggishly as she tries to reorient herself in the darkness, wanting to see where she's headed. Before she can manage as much, her back collides with something - someone? - and she tumbles to the ground in an untidy heap.

Wherever she is, it's still dark, which makes it impossible to not be drawn to the battle overhead. Daine stares at the creatures above her, aghast. This isn't home.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel jumps away as soon as something bumps into him, almost automatically standing and shifting into a fighting posture, his angel blade materializing held protectively in front of him. His wings sweep up again, travelling immaterially through Daine as they go. He's ready to fly or evade if he needs to. He's a soldier, and he's very obviously been trained to fight.

When he turns, though, all he sees is a young girl. His face nearly crumples in relief. When he speaks, he cycles through languages searching for one that she will understand. He keeps looking up, knowing that soon one of the others will feel the light of her human soul and come to score it out of Heaven. Sumerian, Hewbrew, Old Norwegian - as he works through them, he gets more and more visibly anxious - each language that fails to reach her he throws aside with disgust. When he finally reaches modern English, the words come out in a hurried, confused rush. "You need to get out of here. It's not safe."

[wildmage_daine]

Something large whooshes past her, drawing her gaze to the person she had collided with a few moments ago. She notes the wings, the sword, and the stance - it's another of those creatures! - and she's rolling to her feet and reaching for a bow she doesn't have before she realizes she knows his face.

Gabriel?

Daine's brow furrows as he starts speaking gibberish, and she unconsciously echoes every nervous glance he casts toward the sky. She's never seen Gabriel so frightened before, which intensifies her own anxiety. What in Mithros's name is going on here? When he finally starts using words she understands, it does little to dispel her confusion.

"I don't even know where we are," she objects, eyeing the fighters above them and hoping they stay up there instead coming after her. "What is this?"

[has_a_horn]

"Heaven." He twirls back his blade and it disappears from view, though his stance stays careful and ready for action. He cracks a brief smile, but the fear doesn't leave his eyes. "I'm sorry if it's not what you'd hoped."

He glances upward and immediately drops his blade back into his hand. One moment, a winged figure is heading straight for them and the next moment, he's already in front of them. The figure is shining and beautiful, unbearably massive and intimidating. Instinctively, Gabriel steps in front of Daine, enclosing her in the protective boundary of his wings.

A massive sound explodes around them as the figure speaks, the Enochian words both musical and frightening. Gabriel answers without bothering to translate. His own voice is shaking, but he shouts back angry and enraged. "She's human. She doesn't have a place in this battle. Have you forgotten why you're fighting!? Michael. Is your glory worth this sacrifice? They're all dying, Michael!"

The figure lashes out with a swift cut, slicing into Gabriel's chest with barely any effort. Gabriel doesn't expect the blow, so doesn't defend himself against it. One last echo of sound assaults the landscape and the figure propels itself away, back into the battle. Gabriel is left with light pouring out of his chest, his quivering wings still surrounding Daine. "We need to leave."

[wildmage_daine]

Daine gives her head a bewildered little shake, unable to be disappointed by this 'heaven' place because she had no expectations: it's nothing she's heard of before. She can't say she likes it much so far, though, given that it appears to be a war zone and she doesn't even have a weapon. Fear presses in around her, strong enough that she finds herself checking the sky for stormwings. There aren't any, but their absence is far from comforting.

One of the warriors approaches, and Daine gapes at - it? him? - through the gap between Gabriel's neck and his wing. Would her bow even leave a mark on such a being? What shape could she take that would stand a chance against it? It speaks, and she claps her hands over her ears, hair standing on end.

She doesn't hear whatever Gabriel shouts at the figure, but she sees the swift attack - and Gabriel's failure to counter it. That does it. She has to do something. Maybe in falcon shape, she could... but the figure departs before she can settle on anything.

For a heartbeat, she considers pursuing it, but abandons the idea in favor of checking on Gabriel. He's still standing, at least, so perhaps the damage isn't too bad. She tries to gently move his wing aside and finds herself stumbling through it, instead, as if it's made of smoke.

Goddess, his chest - he's bleeding light. "You're hurt," Daine cries, dismayed. Instinctively, she presses her hands against the gash, biting her lip as light leaks out around her fingers. Guilt sits heavy in her stomach. He got hurt trying to protect her (again, some distant part of her supplies).

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel looks down to his chest, at the light seeping out from around her fingers, and his vision blurs. He feels oddly detached from the injury, more focused on the confrontation with his brother and the pain of the dying soldiers. He never wanted this, never wanted to be asked to choose between family. He hopes desperately that he was created to be one separate from the rest, that perhaps he will die before being forced to make that choice.

He clasps her hands between his own, gently pulling them away from his chest and the Grace seeping from it. "I am taking you back to Earth. What luck that brings us away from this place." He disentangles one of his hands and makes eye contact, attempting to reassure her as he presses two fingers against her forehead. When he draws them away, they're no longer in Heaven.

They're ankle-deep in snow and the wind whips bitterly through Bethesda Terrace. The entire scene seems washed of color, with the exception of the rift, which is imposing and bright - an angry gash set out against the sky. Gabriel himself has changed as well. His wound is gone and his wings, which before were gigantic and immaterial, now seem real enough to feel the harsh chill in the air. He winces in pain as he folds them along his back. Something is very wrong. He looks weak.

He turns to her as if he's surprised and saddened to see her there."Bona Dea. Fauna." He forces a smile and reaches out to grip her shoulder. The reach falters though, and his face transforms into a mask of pain for a few moments before he aborts the gesture. As his face smooths over, he huffs out a parody of a laugh and tilts his head to better look at her. "You too?"

[[Link for wtf Gabe is referencing with the Fauna thing.]]

[wildmage_daine]

[[Ahhh, so cool! And not too bad a guess, Gabe!]]

Daine glances up at him in confusion and alarm as he draws her hands away, allowing the light inside of him to seep out, unabated. She opens her mouth to object, but he cuts her off with his promise to take her - back to Earth? They're not on Earth already? She's given little time to wonder where this 'heaven' place is located, or to be grateful it's either on another planet or in a different realm, before Gabriel presses his fingers to her forehead and brings her somewhere she does recognize: Bethesda Terrace. They're back in the park.

The wind hits her, and she hunches her back to it, arms wrapped around herself as she looks around the deserted terrace. Something isn't right. She casts a nervous glance up at the rift, a bright tear that reminds her of the holes in the barrier - and Gabriel's wound. When she turns to check on him, she finds the terrible gash in his chest has vanished, but her relief is short-lived. He still doesn't look very well, and she wonders if he has some sort of injury she can't see.

He seems surprised to see her, as if he'd forgotten she was there in the brief moments she'd been turned away from him. Daine frowns as he starts talking gibberish again, and it deepens as he reaches for her and is forced to stop, his expression pained. They have to get indoors, Daine decides. Whatever's wrong with him can be sorted out once they're out of the cold and wind. At least the base is close by.

"Let's go in." She takes his arm to gently steer him in the right direction, mindful of his hurts. "I'll help you." It's hard to sound encouraging when she has to shout a bit to be heard over the wind, but she tries.

[has_a_horn]

"Okay." He nods to her and let's her take his arm without a fuss. He's not altogether sure where she's taking him, but they can't stay here. He shouldn't be cold, but he is. Cold, and getting colder every moment they remain standing here.

As they walk through the snow, his face is tight and controlled. He's attempting to hide the pain that each step sends through his body, but it's not easy. As they take a step down, his shoulders are jostled into an odd angle and he cringes. Swiftly, he comes to an abrupt stop and turns back to look where they'd been walking. Two long feathers lie on the snow not too far away. He steps back to them and painstakingly bends to pick them up. If she looks, Daine will see that there are several areas of Gabriel's wings that seem to have lost whole rows of feathers, and areas tinged red with very real blood.

With a deep breath, he stands and slides the dislodged feathers into the inside of his jacket before taking Daine's arm once more. "Wouldn't want those falling into the wrong hands now would I?"

[wildmage_daine]

Daine leads him toward the base, keeping her pace slow to match his. It's a miserable trudge with the wind biting through her clothes, and she thinks longingly of how much better she'd feel in polar bear or snow leopard shape. It would be a selfish waste of magic to shift just for her own comfort, though, and she doesn't think she'd be of much use to Gabriel as an animal. Then again, she can tell by how he's moving that walking pains him. Perhaps she shouldn't rule out any shapes that could carry him to the base if need be.

Gabriel stops in his tracks, and Daine wonders if she's going to have to carry him, after all, before he turns to retrieve the feathers he'd dropped. The state of his wings makes her wince. They're bird-like enough that she fair itches to try and heal them, but she knows too well how poorly that would turn out. If she was lucky, all she'd do was get horribly dizzy, but it would probably be worse than that, given that Gabriel's even less of an animal than Yuri is when in bear shape.

"I s'pose not," Daine replies as they continue on their way. There are magics that can be done with parts of immortals, so it doesn't surprise her that his feathers might have magical properties (for all that she's not entirely sure why he has wings in the first place). "I'm sorry I can't just heal them for you - your wings, I mean," she adds. "There's medicine at the base, though. I can help patch them up." It won't be exactly like patching up an injured hawk, but she doesn't think it will be too different, either.

The entrance to the subway appears through the blowing snow, to Daine's relief. "Nearly there, now," she says with an encouraging little smile.

[theoldgirl]

The TARDIS hasn't been scouting the Dreaming for long when she spots a shining beacon of misery and fear amidst the resting minds, but before she can identify its telepathic signature she is suddenly and violently pulled towards it. The undertow is so unexpected and powerful that she finds herself dragged into the mind almost entirely, though she apparently doesn't have to worry about being too vast for it, because what she experiences there is nigh on overwhelming even to her.

A profound darkness, and terror and grief and pain, and war; she's immersed in it, her horror and panic mixing with that already filling the atmosphere. A supernova not far above turns into a temporal explosion, rends the fabric of reality cruelly and unnaturally, a wrenching scream that shakes the foundation of her being.

But even this shock only lasts a moment and finally she remembers herself, draws herself together against the terrible image surrounding her, and extricates her mind from this as much as possible. Now she's able to recognize the other consciousness, though nothing reminds of the friendly confidence and slight obnoxiousness she'd encountered a few days ago. But it's enough to stop her from fleeing, instead offering a cautious, rather shaken mental greeting to identify herself and hopefully find out what's happened to Gabriel.

[has_a_horn]

At the TARDIS's arrival, Gabriel twists up and around, blade at hand and ready to defend himself. The consciousness feels like it should be familiar, but he can't pin it down to a face or name. The mental greeting only confuses him and he looks about for the source, his face making no effort to conceal his confusion and fear, his emotions seeping out into the landscape.

"Come out!" A ball of fury boils in his stomach. If they've come to kill him, they might have done him the decency of letting him see his death coming. Is it too much to give him at least that?

Behind him, a figure appears, dropping to the ground feather light behind Gabriel. Gabriel twists, expecting it, and plunges in his blade instinctively. The figure looming above him curls in on itself and cries out, a heart rending sound that only gets worse and penetrates deeper as the angel bursts into light. He stumbles back from his fallen brother, gasping. "I..."

[theoldgirl]

Oh this isn't good, he's too entrenched in this... dream? memory? to recognize her, and her presence is only aggravating his confusion and fear. She wants to send him calm and comfort, but when he attacks she flinches away mentally, and then his utter horror at having killed one of his own kind threatens to drag her down again. Doesn't she know this all too well, the pain and the guilt, the agony of the dying felt through a connection so intimate and ancient, the beautiful bloom of disintegrating TARDISes bleeding into all planes of reality, and she at the heart of it--

But this isn't her memory, it isn't, and once again she withdraws with some effort, trembling. For a moment she does consider fleeing; this is just too horrifying, and if he lashes out at her in his confusion, she's still entangled enough that it might do her serious harm. But because it is so terrible, she can't refuse to try and help, can't just leave him to suffer here.

Steeling her mental walls, she projects her humanoid form on the ground in front of him, out of his weapon's immediate reach. She doubts he'll recognize her this way, but it's worth a try and will perhaps reassure him of her good intentions. "Gabriel?", she tries, poorly masking her dismay and remembered pain. "You know me, I am the TARDIS. The time ship. I want to help."

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel braces himself for another attack, but when this strange figure makes no move to rush forward he holds himself at the ready. She's - he tilts his head to the side, still breathing heavily. He's not entirely focused on her. He's too consumed with his own intense feelings of guilt, loss, and confusion.

He grips his hand tighter around the blade and forces himself to look directly at her. She's...sad? Not human, but not an angel either. "This isn't your war. Is it?" He takes a step back from her, already glancing back up to the fighting. He takes a deep, shaking breath and exhales slowly.

The blade falls from his hand as the scene around them changes. The TARDIS will recognise the view from their last meeting. Rome, 80 AD, only this time, the scene is more accurate. The sky is filled with smoke, and fire is burning through the city. Even worse, a plague is loose, and the entire city is lost in despair. Gabriel's wings shift about like ashes as he turns to the TARDIS, face both weary and suspicious. "Have you brought me here?"

[theoldgirl]

The TARDIS waits patiently, yet more than a bit anxiously for a reaction, ready to protect herself if necessary. There's no real recognition in him, but at least he doesn't seem inclined to attack. She takes the time he needs to focus to study the more literal projection in front of her, rather than just the distressing emotions all around. The giant, expressive wings, the imposing blade, the fighting stance - is this his true form? But no, not quite; throwing a somewhat fearful glance up at the battle overhead she realizes he must be like them, the alien figures slaughtering each other for who knows what reason. Soon she has to turn away in grief and revulsion.

When he asks about the war, she can't help wincing, but before she can deny it firmly for both their sakes, the scene shifts abruptly. She's relieved to be spared more of his celestial war, but now there's chaos pressing close, Rome in flames, and as she turns to look around and reorient herself she notes the projection is powerful enough that she can feel the heat of the fires, the smoke and stench of the city biting in her throat.

She shakes her head at his question, and takes a cautious step towards him to be heard above the din of screaming children. "No, you did. You are dreaming, Gabriel. This isn't happening now." Another step, as non-threatening as possible. "Let me help you," she offers, trying to exude calm, but there's the desperate edge of a plea to it. Meanwhile, she expands her influence in an attempt to stifle the flames, make the scene a little less horrible, though his mind has a fierce grip on it.

[has_a_horn]

When the TARDIS starts influencing his surroundings, Gabriel focuses intensely on her. For now, she's not doing anything dangerous, but he doesn't trust that not to change at any moment. Her cautious approach amounts to nothing as he steps into her personal space and lifts a hand to encircle her neck. His intention isn't to hurt her, just to be threatening enough that she knows he's not going to put up with anything but the truth.

"What are you?" He casts a glance up the marble steps. He has to go up there soon. If this takes too long, he'll have to leave her behind. "Why would I need your help?"

[theoldgirl]

His sudden approach surprises her and she flinches, but stays still and calm in his grip to show she has no intention of fighting him. Her influence on the surroundings dies down as she draws up more protective walls, though she can't be sure they'd be much use if he does decide to hurt her. And he isn't hearing a rational word she's saying, nor acknowledging her non-verbal communications. It would be frustrating if it wasn't so frightening. What could have possibility done this to him, drive him to this level of unconsciousness?

"I'm a friend," she replies steadily, resting one hand lightly on the hand around her throat. "I saw you in pain and wished to help, that's all." She follows his gaze up the steps, sensing his impatience and desire to move on. "What did you come here to do?" He's unable to listen to reason now, but perhaps if she manages to become part of the dream rather than an intruder, he'll be more susceptible to her guidance soon.

[has_a_horn]

The TARDIS saying that she'd seen him in pain is enough to unbalance him. He's already getting caught up in the memory of this place and time, forgetting that she had seen the war in heaven. He still feels that pain, but he can also feel the pain of all the distressed and dying people in the city. There's a chance that that is all she is picking up on.

Gabriel narrows his eyes, prodding at her mind as he searches for what she is. He doesn't believe that she's his friend like she's so eager to claim herself as, but he doesn't immediately sense hostility either. He draws away, frustrated but willing to give her some space. It's likely that she's some small-time temple goddess caught up in this mess trying to make a name for herself. He doesn't have time for this.

"Come see, if you're so curious." Without waiting for her to answer, he turns away from her and vaults up the steps several at a time.

[brink]

Gabriel's dream is like a lighthouse in the dark for Topher, uncommonly intense and painful. Not something he usually goes diving into, rather something he avoids, because it tends to mean trouble. Regular dreamers don't give off quite this noticable sensations, and he mostly stays away from people with dream powers, for fear they'd use them against him.

Still, it's a familiar dreamer, but before he can make up his mind, he feels violently drawn into it, and the feelings are overwhelming from up close. His physical self tumbles in unceremoniously, and he doesn't even have enough focus to disguise himself, though he realises quickly that there wouldn't be much point - he's visited this mind before.

Except last time, Gabriel's mind was rather more controlled. Not as traumatising. Topher has to fight hard to stop the horror and despair and pain from infecting him, and he isn't all that successful.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel stands and turns quickly, shifting immediately into a fighting stance, his bright blade dropping down into his hand. Only, when he turns and catches sight of a human, his expression drops in relief. This isn't one of his brothers or sisters, this is a human.

He sweeps his wings up over the human, almost impossibly large and blocking out the other angel's view of this human. Whoever this is, he shouldn't be here. If any of the others catch on to his presence there's a chance that he'll be scored out of heaven.

When he speaks, he cycles through languages searching for one that she will understand. Sumerian, Hewbrew, Old Norwegian - as he works through them, he gets more and more visibly anxious - each language that fails to reach him he throws aside with disgust. When he finally reaches modern English, the words come out in a hurried, confused rush. "You need to get out of here. It's not safe."

[brink]

Jesus fucking Christ on a pogo-stick, Topher just noticed the wings. Kind of hard not to, really, when they swoop up over him like that. Why does Gabriel have wings? Right. And now weird languages. Okay then.

"Gabriel, what's going on?" he asks, getting to his feet, visibly shaken by the dream. Well, not so much the dream as Gabriel and the state of his mind. Topher would try to use his powers to calm him down, but at the moment it's all he can do stop the dream from affecting himself and pulling him under. He's not so worried by the surroundings as by what could have happened to put Gabriel in such a state.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel startles back a step when the man says his name, unsure how this could be possible and wondering if it's a trick being played on him by one of his brothers.

"How do you know my name?" he asks, keeping his blade close at hand, ready to protect himself should this be an angel in disguise. "Are you a prophet?" He glances up at the battle fearfully before giving the man his attention once more. His voice raises and he doesn't wait for an answer to either question before asking another. "How did you come to Heaven?"

[brink]

Well, crap. They're in Heaven? Topher pushes it from his mind for the moment, trying to influence the dream, breathe more lucidity into it, but given how deep in the dream Gabriel is, it's not easy. He's also refusing to pay attention to anything that happens above.

As for actual actions visible to Gabriel, he lifts his hands in a nervous gesture of peace. "I just ended up here," he answers, which isn't entirely true, but then it's not like they're really in heaven. ...He thinks. "And I'm pretty sure I'm not a prophet."

Still, even in this rather intense situation, he can't help but be curious. He can sense that this isn't just wild imaginings - there's memory and deep-rooted emotions here. So, what, does this mean Gabriel's an angel? He's not sure he can even process that. But he tries to absorb what knowledge he can gain from the dream, trying to filter out the strongest emotions, trying to resist the waves of fear and misery that pervades the dream.

[has_a_horn]

"Who are you?" Gabriel repeats, but he doesn't have time to listen to the answer. A gigantic figure descends from above them and Gabriel turns, swiftly plunging his blade into the figure before it can attack. It's an instinctive move that has him stumbling back in horror as the figure explodes in a supernova of light. He's just killed one of his brothers. How can he ever come back from that?

He turns back to Topher and grabs a handful of his shirt. They need to get out of here right now. He pulls and the scene around them disappears, replaced by the clean lines of an upscale hotel lobby. Gabriel falls back into the carpet. His wings have transformed with the transition. Now, they seem more solid, distinctly avian and distinctly damaged.

Behind the booking counter, an insipid man smiles and says. "Loki, I see you've brought a friend. The meeting is already under way."

[brink]

Being temporarily open to the influences of the dream means Topher feels what Gabriel feels, quite strongly at that, and the horror fills him. He doesn't have time to pull himself out of it, before Gabriel is grabbing him and changing the setting.

Topher staggers and ends up on his knees, hands cluthed at his chest in an instinctual reaction to the pain and emotion that he's feeling - that Gabriel's feeling. He almost finds himself losing control, and has to pull himself together to remember that this isn't really happening, that it's still all in Gabriel's head.

He looks up when a voice speaks, then looks to his angel friend with a worried frown. "Gabriel..." he says anxiously. He should be trying to get Gabriel out of this, get him lucid again, but his mind is a lot stronger than Topher would've guessed, and he's not sure he'll have any real chance fighting against it. He can still leave, just wake up - as far as he can tell there's nothing holding him here. But he doesn't want to abandon Gabriel.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel pushes himself up with a great amount of difficulty. As he gets to his knees, he notices the scattered feathers around him and curses, stopping to pick them up and shove them into his inside jacket pocket. They could be used against him, and especially here. Finally, he stands, limbs protesting against the effort as he straightens himself up and faces the hallway that will take him to his brother.

This time, he won't be quick or smart enough to evade him. He knows this, but he starts walking anyway. "Stay here. Or get out, if you can." he says to Topher, heading towards the nearest hallway. He can already smell the blood. A few steps later, he's see's the first body part. Odin, he thinks. He remembers the fingers, square and callused over the years, because Odin had liked to see the result of his hard work rather than magic it away. The entire hallway it covered in blood, but he keeps walking through it anyway.

He wonders if Kali came to the meeting, if her remains are here among the rest, and the thought makes his stomach roil in protest. This isn't what should have happened. He should have been able to prevent this.