Lieutenant Nera Ay - Though My Eyes Could See, I Still Was a Blind Man
Jonathan
((Dresden Point Set, Studio 9, USP Quantum Containment Realm 5))
After spending the past however long in a show dedicated to hunting fear-based thought creatures with his pseudo brother Morro, Ay had given up hope of getting out. Then came the crash, and the sudden discovery, for it felt like a discovery, of Sevantha. Finally, someone else from the Thor, alive and functional! Dressed like a runaway bride, but who cares about that?
Now, though, they had had one of those fear creatures, a Tulpa, to deal with, that had taken great delight in cycling through Morro’s fears, and had since moved onto Ay. Selecting one of his worst memories from the whole Fearless experience. Because what self-respecting writer wouldn’t force their muse to go through that again?
And in the back of his mind was the not-so-subtle reminder that his annual counselling appointment was coming up. It was a shock that the Tulpa hadn’t taken on the form of a counsellor yet.
He could just imagine it…waking menacingly towards him with a weird accent, “Tell me about your mother”.
The writers of Fearless had worked out that he was a doctor, and thought the most entertaining thing to do was craft an arc where that training was put to use in an inverse fashion. Captured by Tulpa, forced to help them make people more susceptible to fear, to make feeding easier. If he didn’t follow the script, someone from the Syren’s Song or the Janaran went to the Burnout.
The face this one had adopted, Alexander, had led the group. To add to the twisted humour, Alexander had been modelled on someone’s phobia of a childhood doctor.
Nera: We put the real Alexander down. Pretending to be him won’t do anything; I’ve moved past that.
Still, he took a step back as the Alexander copy got closer.
Alexander (Tulpa): You can't run Ay. Not from me. I'm inside that angsty little head of yours, even if you won’t admit it.
He took another step, back, gun waving just a little. Strangely, he wished the fake drone would come back. That was much easier to handle.
Caras: He’s going to starve you out. And maybe we won’t put you down. Then again, you could just try to kill us. Wouldn’t you be a hero to your people?
And there was Morro again, coming out of nowhere. Which he shouldn’t have done, he should have gone to the car and gotten their newest friend to safety. Still, his gun stopped wavering, the company proving decidedly reassuring.
Saa: Come on… ::She speaks to the car:: Don’t make me use my amazing percussive maintenance skills to get you started.
The Tulpa stared back, smiling that annoying smile. Ay hated that smile with a burning passion. He was tempted to shoot it again, not that it would have much of an effect. His finger put a little more pressure on the trigger, really contemplating it.
Caras: Look we have something better. You seem to be pretty strong, but you don’t have a good imprint of us. You probably ate another tulpa that got one… what five? Six years ago? Maybe even longer? But with this. ::presenting a bag:: you can get whoever you want.
Ay wasn’t sure where he’d kept it, but Morro produced a little purple velvet bag, swinging it between his fingers. Taunting the Tulpa
Alexander (Tulpa): Is… is that what I think it is?
The Alexander thing was hooked. Completely hooked. The way its eyes bugged out would have been funny if Ay really didn’t like the face one bit.
Caras: It is… it’s dream dust.
Ay swallowed, trying to look a little more relaxed.
Nera: And it could be all yours.
Its eyes flckered, losing the whiteness and becoming insubstantial again. Its form was breaking down; young, hungry, probably both, and not enough experience to keep it up. Good, that played in their favour.
Alexander (Tulpa): Why would you trade this to me?
He’d seen that smirk often enough at this point. It was the one Morro got whenever he was about to tell a bald-faced lie that he thought was brilliant. Most of the time, they actually were very good.
Caras: Well because we want you to take back a messa…what is that?
A familiar mechanical roar and the crashing of undergrowth, that could only belong to one thing.
Alexander (Tulpa): That sounds like a….
The Black Pearl barrelled onto the scene out of nowhere, slamming into the Alexander replica, with a satisfying thud as the wheels ran over the annoying grinning face, trapping it for a little while. Sevantha’s head poked out the window, hair flowing, looking like some sort of heroine.
Saa: Get in!
A brief look passed between Ay and Morro, and the two dived for the car; Ay scrambling into the front seat, shutting the door firmly behind him.
Caras: Did you really have to hit him? Also how did you get the keys?
Morro followed, climbing into the back, in just enough time for Ay to direct a somewhat indignant look at the man.
Nera: Why are you worried about the Tulpa? It’ll be fine. Annoyingly.
The answering eye roll said it all.
Caras: No, I wasn't worried for the Tulpa. The Car. I was worried about the car. Also Sevantha, can you roll down the windows?
The engine revved, and the Black Pearl sped off, under new hands for once. It was a rare day that anyone other than Ay or Morro drove the car.
Saa: So that’s a tulpa. ::She kept her eyes on the road:: How that species isn’t extinct is worth a study considering they’re walking contradictions. I know a nice little spot called “ The Chapel” , an old prohibition-era bar that had a church front, converted into a bar some time ago. Heard of it?
Ay was caught between two thought trains here. On the one hand, he wanted to sit and watch a trained counsellor psychoanalyze a Tulpa out of existence. And the other thought train…she’d mentioned a bar. Ay liked bars.
Caras: No, but if you know about it, then let's head there. Maybe we can lay low for a bit, figure out a plan, and reach out to our contact.
He nodded subtly. It seemed like a good idea. He hadn’t actually heard of The Chapel, neither of them had, but now that it had been said out loud with conviction, the world would adjust. Hopefully, it’d be safe for a bit, enough to work out an escape, or at least talk to dear old Rat Boy.
Nera: No complaints from me. I drink sounds pretty good right about now.
The car rolled onto a narrow wooden bridge, crossing a deep and concerningly dark-looking body of water. Ay was about to turn the radio on when a truly horrific sight crawled up the side of the car, face appearing by the open window.
Caras: Oh, yeah on your left.
Apparently, they’d dragged the Tulpa all this way, or it had clung onto the undercarriage, and had now combined Alexander and a Borg Drone into some horrific mismatch, trying to drag itself through the window. Morro, kindly Morro, shot both its hands before it could, sending it tumbling down into the dark waters below.
Alexander (Tulpa): NOOOOOOOOOOOOO
It echoed. In a dramatic and hilarious fashion.
Caras: Ok you can roll them back up.
Ay snickered to himself, jabbed the radio back on, and settled into his seat, the familiar vocals filling the car once more.
((The Chapel, Dresden Point Set, Studio 9, USP Quantum Containment Realm 5))
Time was an odd thing in Fearless. It didn’t work properly. Years passed, and neither of them aged; day became night at the drop of the hat or a dramatic camera angle. In this case, one moment he’d been revelling in their victory over Drone Alexander the Fake, preparing to belt along to the song on the radio, and the next, they were rolling to a stop, the Black Pearl slipping into a parking space.
They’d reached Dresden Point at last, and bar, The Chapel, was almost exactly what you’d picture. Chances were, it was exactly what one of them had pictured, and the writers had just gone with that for ease.
The church portion was dilapidated, the paint peeling, but the slightly crooked neon sign reading THE CHURCH in big white letters advertised what it was. They weren’t the only ones here from the looks of it; a small handful of other cars littered the car park, looking more like people had just abandoned them than actually made an effort.
Caras: So it’s been a long time. You found yourself all the way out here, and have a normal haunt? Must be nice. We used to have a place like that.
Ay sighed, just a little sadly, remembering the Discothèque. It was a nice place, somewhere to rest and recuperate, talk to other hunters, and find new jobs. Morro would dance, while Ay entertained himself with the karaoke machine and the vast array of strong, nameless liquors. Then the whole establishment had been swallowed by something called a Hellmouth.
Nera: The Discothèque. I miss that place. The barmen were cute.
Saa: Response
The purple velvet back appeared once more, in answer to the question.
Caras: Oh this? It’s dream dust. It can put anyone, and I mean anyone to sleep. Tulpas would seeming want to use it to put one of us to sleep so they can get a new imprint of our fears. Either that or they’d put themselves to sleep if they were well fed enough.
Ay took a moment to look at the Black Pearls’ damage himself. He wasn’t the engineer; that was definitely Morro, but he’d grown attached to the car. He cringed as he saw the large dent and limp hanging headlight again. I gave the car a little pat, almost apologising for getting her dented again.
Nera: It’s nasty stuff. Hard to come by, too, and very expensive. Wasn’t easy for us to get that back. A Tulpa, though, if you offer them Dream Dust, it’s like a cat with catnip.
Saa: Response
Why did that have to come up in conversation? He wrinkled his nose and pulled an exaggerated expression of disdain. He did not want to think about Tulpa mating habits. It was bad enough that they’d seen it happen before. That was a memory he didn’t want to relive.
Caras: ahh yep, that’s how they procreate. Most of them never reach maturity enough to procreate though, but with dream dust they could kick things off a little early. ::pivoting:: anyways who runs this place? They friendly?
The door was held open, Morro playing the gentleman.
Nera: No more Tulpa baby-making talk. I want to keep my lunch down if you don’t mind.
He breathed a sigh of relief and stepped through the door.
Saa: Response
The interior was almost exactly as one might imagine, and it made Ay smile. It wasn’t The Allegation by any means, but it was still nice. Really, really nice, actually. The bar and table tops were a light brown wood, the stools cushioned in a slightly darker shade. The floor was styled and patterned, an artful black and white zigzag, contrasting with the warm lighting from above.
The Chapel smelled of stale alcohol, a little bit of sweat, and an undercurrent of cigarette smoke, coming from the happily smoking patrons who paid them little to no mind.
Ay settled himself against the bar, making a small gesture with his hand, three greenish coloured bottles appearing a moment later. He’d worked out a little while ago that the writers weren’t too focused on the drinks and things like branding.
Drinks weren’t good for raters. Shooting Tulpa and finding reasons for one or both of the boys to take their shirts off, however, seemed to be good for ratings.
Nera: Thanks. Nice place you’ve got here.
The barman, a man of somewhat indeterminate age with a toothpick in his mouth and a very frilling short, along with dark shoulder-length hair, didn't seem concerned with someone turning up in a torn wedding dress.
Jaytona: Dackie Jaytona, Regular human bartender. Hope you boys aren’t here to cause me any trouble.
It was said with a smile, but he seemed to be sizing them up, assessing, his gaze taking in every detail of them. Ay half suspected the man had a weapon tucked behind the bar.
Caras / Saa: Response
He seemed to take the answer for what it was, nodding.
Jaytona: Why don’t you go sit down? I’ve got some spare clothes in the back :: looking towards Saa:: You’re welcome to them.
He didn’t wait for a response and walked away from the bar, out a door leading into the rest of the complex.
Nera: ::murmering:: Friendly. Weird name. He was casing us, though. You both felt that, right?
He grabbed two of the bottles and wandered towards a small booth with a good view of the door Jaytona had gone through.
Caras / Saa: Response
Settling surprisingly comfortably into the cushioned booth, Ay pulled a small box from his jacket pocket, popped the lid, and dumped a small bag of tobacco on the table. He looked up briefly, feeling judgmental stares from somewhere.
Nera: Blame our mutual oversized puppy of a friend, he’s a bad influence.
He sighed, looking from Morro to Sevantha.
Nera: Tulpa King out there somewhere, more and more of them crawling out of the woodworks to track us down. How do we get out of this situation we’ve landed in?
He hoped that if he included the narrative, then none of the producers would work out what he was actually talking about. Escape. The Thor. His old life.
Caras / Saa: Response
Tags/TBC
Lieutenant Nera Ay
Chief Medical Officer
USS Thor
G240106NA2
He/Him/His (Player/Character)
