Harth Fray (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
herotherhalf) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
castleinthemist2012-03-09 01:19 am
herotherhalf) wrote in castleinthemist2012-03-09 01:19 am
02 | In your dreams | Mingle
Harth collected his books, his alter, his herbs and raw materials he used in his spells. From there? He hid in his room for days, pilfering through the ancient texts. He was so sure he had something in one of these books, so while he was short on stamina he worked through it. He read the material through the last few days and nights dedicated until finally he found the spell he was looking for.
It was similar to a long line of memory altering spells as well as the Tabula Rasa spells he'd experienced in one of his own slayer dreams. But this was different. This was a dream walking incantation. It would allow him to traverse the dream scape of all the minds around him. Trouble is it linked minds as much as it allowed him access. He'd have to alter it in an attempt to get around such inconvenient side effects.
Checking his bindings of supplies, he found the few things he needed to cast the spell. It was the wee hours of the morning when he did it. A prime time for dream activity for people who went to bed on time, so he'd be having plenty of fun tonight he expected. All he needed was the water, a few drops of his own blood and some of his herbs. From there, he spoke the incantation, four verses in a language long forgotten to time. He could see the chalice he used glow a bright green. He took the goblet and raise to his lips, not hesitating a moment before sipping down the entire bowl. Then, in his empty room, he set the bowl down on the side table and lay on his bed, hands folded over his abdomen.
[OOC: Here's the first part of Harth plot. Feel free to tag him with your dreams and he'll observe and interact. The memory half of the plot takes place while the characters are awake so you can either post those threads here or make your own thread. Harth'll probably tag everyone. I'll back tag as necessary.]
It was similar to a long line of memory altering spells as well as the Tabula Rasa spells he'd experienced in one of his own slayer dreams. But this was different. This was a dream walking incantation. It would allow him to traverse the dream scape of all the minds around him. Trouble is it linked minds as much as it allowed him access. He'd have to alter it in an attempt to get around such inconvenient side effects.
Checking his bindings of supplies, he found the few things he needed to cast the spell. It was the wee hours of the morning when he did it. A prime time for dream activity for people who went to bed on time, so he'd be having plenty of fun tonight he expected. All he needed was the water, a few drops of his own blood and some of his herbs. From there, he spoke the incantation, four verses in a language long forgotten to time. He could see the chalice he used glow a bright green. He took the goblet and raise to his lips, not hesitating a moment before sipping down the entire bowl. Then, in his empty room, he set the bowl down on the side table and lay on his bed, hands folded over his abdomen.
[OOC: Here's the first part of Harth plot. Feel free to tag him with your dreams and he'll observe and interact. The memory half of the plot takes place while the characters are awake so you can either post those threads here or make your own thread. Harth'll probably tag everyone. I'll back tag as necessary.]
no subject
It was just that. Unacceptable. Harth too rejected the thought of being cast off and letting his race of demon die off, although many of his peons were... expendable. The thing about vampires though? You could always make a new one. He understood Alister's pain, far more than the way Ratchet was dealing with it.
He was like the slayer in that way, taking the road which would lead to the least consequence. He was a selfless hero, a noble spirit. And broken, apparently. This was more of a latent memory of the last trauma he suffered. Worse still? His trust in Alister was enough that this was a stab in the back. An act of unprovoked cruelty.
But a warranted one. "Ratchet. Did you even think to consider exactly how deep Alister's feelings were? Dependent on finding his people again? You had it coming." He said, letting his words echo in the dream space.
He wanted to jump into Ratchet's shoes, experience more. Especially the dynamic between Alister and Ratchet themselves. So he concentrated, tried to activate another memory.
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"General, will you just stop for a second? I want to know what happened."
Alister scoffs as he starts to feel for a weakpoint in the wall. "Questions. Questions. You ask all these questions. Ask yourself this! What relevant is the past if you can change it? Your father would have said 'not very'." Alister adds a bit of venom to the last sentence and goes back to feeling the wall.
Ratchet glares slightly. "That's him. And you still haven't given me a straight answer. Why aren't you with the Lombaxes?" Alister seems to nearly growl at the question and turns on Ratchet as he yells; "Because I failed them!" Ratchet looks shocked as Alister looks pained.
"...I failed them..."Alister slowly sinks to the ground and closes his eyes. He looks up and stares at Ratchet for a moment before beginning his story.
"I made a mistake. After the great war, Polaris was a dangerous place. Even with the Cragmites gone, I knew steps needed to be taken to protect the galaxy. One day, we were approached by an inventor with incredible ideas; technology light years beyond what we were using. The inventor was someone... Someone your father warned me not to trust. Our kind had grown suspicious of him, but I was convinced this was the right thing to do - for the galaxy.
I granted him full access to our technology. All of our secrets. Only when he was finished... They took refuge in the court but your father refused. He would never have left your mother, but when he made it back, she...She was already gone. I don't know how long he survived before Tachyon caught up with him, but I know I was responsible for his death."
Alister looks away from Ratchet and puts his face in his hand. He was quiet for a moment before he stood up.
"For my crimes, I was forbidden from joining the Lombaxes, and so I like in exile. I can make it right Ratchet. All of it, I-"
He turns back to Ratchet and approaches him. He places a hand on the younger Lombax's shoulder. "We can fix it. With the clock under our control, it'll be like none of this ever happened!" Alister turns around and takes his wrench in his hands. "Stay with me and I promise I'll get your family back." He slams his staff into the rock and blasts it away, revealing an opening. Ratchet covers his head at the noise and looks out of the cave with a determined look in his eyes.
no subject
Alister was an interesting character indeed, but what was more interesting were the feelings of isolation that he picked up coming from both of them, Ratchet considerably more so. Cut off from his entire species, friends and family. That was something to consider, now wasn't it? He also made a mental note of those wrenches, knowing that if those were powerful weapons and tools he possibly had access to other devices just like it.
All and all, Ratchet was the hero type. Incorruptible safe for Harth's one little trick up his sleeve and no guarantee that would work.
He focused on Ratchet's memories of Alister and some of their interstellar arena's. Let's see how Ratchet's current mind set deals with Alister? Face him as an enemy or not?
And he would take the role, as far as Ratchet knew, he was Alister.
no subject
The hero stood away from Harth, glaring at the image of Alister he saw before him. This was what he wanted, a chance to fight back, a chance to learn exactly why "Alister" had done what he had.
"Tell me why Alister! Why did you do it?!" The smaller Lombax materialized his wrench and charged his opponent. He wanted answers and he'd beat them out of "Alister" if he had to.
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"But if you want to know..." Hover booting over to Ratchet he brought down the wrench against Ratchet. "I've worked too long and too hard to watch you ruin everything!"
That was an interpretation, and he was improvising. It didn't need to be a perfect performance, he just wanted a reaction out of Ratchet. He also didn't have much of a problem beating Ratchet down to size. In the morning? He might just have to visit Ratchet himself.
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"I told you we could still find them together, Alister! We couldn't risk the entire universe by using the Clock!" Ratchet was growing angry but the hurt was there. Why? Why wasn't he enough?!
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"The Lombaxes are worth the risk! They were willing to tear the fabric of space time, and I AM as well!" He yelled, now firing a blast from the end of his weapon, snarling all the way. Hah. Somewhat of a hot head, this Alister. Thick headed in his rage, but he wasn't Alister, now was he? When push came to shove, and there would be shoving, he was going to come out of this fight on top. Literally.
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"They wouldn't want this, Alister! They fought to protect the universe!" He was still trying to reason with the General. Why was he doing this again? Answers. That's right. He wanted the answers to all his questions, the answers he knew he deserved...or did he?
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If Ratchet died, would the sensation of failure and grief of his own death cement itself? Or would defeating Alister give him inner strength to overcome it? Harth would almost certainly prefer the former but both were interesting outcomes.
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"Shit..." The younger Lombax held his shoulder for a moment. Oh it hurt. Damn those negative energy blasts. He rolled over and tried to stand up. He needed to move, needed to get away and find something else to attack with.
"Would they want the galaxy they tried to protect destroyed Alister? All just for a chance to bring them back?!"
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"You had your chance to help me, Ratchet. Now, unfortunately..." To annunciate his words he thrusts his omniwrench to Ratchet's neck to lift him up.
"I can nolonger afford to have you in the way!" He wasn't going to respond to Ratchet anymore. He had to bring this one to a close. And with that final word he flung Ratchet off the edge of the platform.
no subject