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The walls are stone, the passage sloping downward into depths barely pierced by the light from torches which jut out at irregular intervals. A figure in a long black skull-embroidered coat creeps carefully through the passage, their swashbuckler hat accented with a zorro-style mask to hide the eyes.
They arrive at the base of the passage where it opens into a large open area, with the walls shrouded in darkness. A bed sits in a ring of torches in the middle of the room, and on it, Dandelion rests. Her hands, aged but strong, are clasped at her chest. Her eyes are closed and her graying hair is loose, haloing her in tarnishing silver.
“Auntie!” Nevermore hisses. “Wake up! I’m here to rescue you!”
The auntie in the room doesn't stir, her skin pale--it's hard to tell at this distance if the eidolon of Dandelion is breathing or not.
Nevy steps forward into the room, the lamplight revealing a much less glamorous figure than Nevermore usually cuts. Their hair isn’t just frizzy; it’s a rat’s nest of tangles. Their outfit fits them poorly, some pieces hanging loosely and others so tight that they bulge and creak at the seams. The mask, so impressive in the shadows, is just a bandanna with holes cut in it, the paisley pattern standing out from the faded black.
They reach out to touch ‘Dandy.’ “Auntie? You need to get up.”
The body is cold to the touch, skin almost waxy.
There's a soft sound behind Nevermore, a footstep, perhaps.
Nevy turns with a start. “Who’s there?!” They say in a feeble attempt at a heroic clarion. They start to duck behind the bed, then step in front of it protectively.
Another soft footstep. A figure steps into view--a young woman with glossy brown hair under a bandana, everything about her shining with vitality. She has a sword in one hand, and a steely look in her eyes.
And she really doesn't fit into this dream.
Nevy blinks, looking confused. “Who are you?” They glance around. “Are you a prisoner here, too? Or are you helping keep her captive?”
"None of the above. Really, Nevermore, this is the scenario you're dreaming up, when you finally get to sleep?" There's a crooked little smile.
The confusion increases. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but we have to be quiet. If we’re overheard...”
There’s a clinking noise, A bottle rolls out of the shadows, coming to rest at the real Dandelion’s feet.
She bends down to pick it up, turning it so she can read the label.
Amontillado
Nevy pales. “Crap. Whoever you are, we need to run. Can you get her legs?” They grasp beneath EidoDandy’s armpits.
The young woman purses her lips, but does grab her eidolon self’s legs, rather than arguing. “Quickly, now!”
Nevy hefts (wheezing slightly) and they pull the (sleeping? Dead?) eidolon from the bed together. “This way,” They say, shuffling backwards as fast as they can. It’s not very.
“Here, I can hoist her on my own. You lead the way.” She adjusts her grip until the limp body is in more of a fireman carry.
Nevy nods. “Thanks.” They turn and dash (waddle) toward the passage they came in...
...And run into the wall of rough bricks that’s gone up in the meantime. A chittering laugh echoes from the other side through the small gap that still remains - space for a brick or two, at most.
“No!” Nevy slams their balled fists into the wall. “No! For the love of God, Montressor!”
A face appears in the gap - another Nevermore, their face as glamorous and composed as Nevermore’s dream self is frazzled and inadequate. “You were never ready for this,” the eidolon says through plum-dark lips. Eyes expertly made up into mysterious pools reflect their owner’s wicked grin. “You’d better stay there. It’ll be safer. It’s what you’re good for.” Then, the eidolon Nevy turns, with a hint of a rat tail, to grab a brick and slam it home.
The young woman looks at the rat Nevermore and sighs, unceremoniously dropping the body and stepping forward. “Now you listen to me, you half-baked scrap of fancy, you get out of Nevermore’s mind right this instant, or I will tend you asunder. Silly obsessive thought, you hardly know what the future brings—but I assure you, what Nevermore is good for will be much more than hiding away in the dark!”
The eidolon, still chuckling, uses its rat tail to cement the last block in place. Meanwhile, Nevy blinks again. “Auntie...?”
The thing about a khopesh is that it’s made to crush and cleave, rather than to stab, and with a two-handed grip and a solid stance, Dandelion turns all the faith she has in her weapon and all her force of will into power for a single brutal attack against the brick wall.
“Yes, it’s me. And I’m getting you out of this nightmare!”
The khopesh hits the wall with a mighty... clink.
Nevy sighs, sitting on the bed which is now right behind them, in the way of dreams. “It’s no use,” they say, “trying to break it down. Montressor uses good mortar.”
“Giving up already? Now that’s not fair. To you, or to me.” She puts her hands on her hips, stepping back from the wall to stand right in front of Nevermore.
Nevy frowns at her. “Auntie, why are you...” They search for the word. “...So young?” They eventually land on.
"In the Astral, this is the form I always take." She slowly turns around in a circle. "Which is occasionally inconvenient. It's always weird when I visit my daughter's dreams and look younger than her. But, anything to get out of my own head and into yours, hm?"
“Dreams?” Nevy glances around again. “Wait. This is a dream?”
"Yes, this is a dream. For the love of god, Nevermore, did you think there was a real Montressor-rat out there? Don't answer that." She laughs warmly. "Welcome to your Oneiros."
Nevy looks around. “Huh. That... does make more sense.” They look at Dandy. “But... it’s you?!” They stand up. “Are you okay? What’s going on? Can I help? How can I help?”
"Well, I'm okay enough to be walking in dreams, so that's something. I've passed along a map of where I'm being held to Heather, because I know she's coming to get me. You can help, definitely; if there's any way to get eyes on the entrance of the place we're being held, or where the air vents let out, without being noticed? That'd be very useful. An assessment of whether the air vents are a feasible point of entry." Dandelion nods slowly. "Be careful, there's a man in a suit, clearly not one of the rats' slaves, who comes down sometimes. Don't let him catch you."
Nevy nods. “I was hoping I could ask some ghosts, because they can get a lot of places without being noticed, but the ones around here won’t go there, and the ones there aren’t going to come here unless I can get an Anchor for them somehow.”
"Good luck with that. They're collecting jars, Nevermore. I believe they're to hold the souls of their sacrificial victims. I wouldn't count on having ghosts from the prison to contact."
Nevy frowns. “The local haunts did say there were some ghosts in Centralia. Maybe they’re residents?” They sigh. “We’ll think of something.”
"I have complete faith in you. You and my cadre, and the Soulwardens, and everyone else who's helping with this. I know you'll get me and everyone else out of here alive. I've promised the kid in the cage next to me, that we'll both make it out okay, so it's up to you to make sure that happens."
Nevy nods. “Everyone’s worried sick. One of my vampire friends lost a sibling.” They frown. “Is anyone there named ‘Bug?’”
"Bug? Not that I've heard of, but I can ask around. What's the name of the person looking for them?"
“Rena. Let them know she’s clawing at the walls and will probably be the first one through the door when the rescue comes? And it’s coming.”
“...if you see her, ask if Bug also goes by Calamity. If so, they’re alive and in decent shape, still. A menace, that kid.” Her tone is fond. “I hope they stay in touch, when we get out.”
Nevy smiles. “Another nibling?” They reach for their pocket, then sigh. “I can’t exactly text from a Dream, can I?”
“No, but you can once you wake up. Which you’re not going to do just yet, because you’re going to hug me.”
They absolutely hug her, and cling just a bit. “Sorry,” they say. “I... feel like I should have been able to help more.”
“You’re learning. This mess has taught you where your weak spots are, and where you can help. Now, the work and training begin, dear. As you sure yourself up, and figure out how to be ready for the next disaster. Right?”
“Right,” Nevy says, though they don’t look entirely convinced.
"Perhaps even work with you on getting into the Astral, so I don't have to pay for all the outgoing calls." This is said with a good bit of tease, as her arms tighten around them.
Nevy chuckles at that. “Does giving me access to people’s dreams really seem like a good idea?”
“I’d love to see how dark inky black your Astral self would manifest, I admit.”
Nevy looks curious. “How does that work? Is it based on how you see yourself, or...” They shake their head. “Never mind. Later.”
“It’s a hard question to answer. Later indeed.” She laughs. “Anything else you need from me, while I’m here?”
“More hugs?” They cling again for a moment. “You said you already spoke to Heather?”
“Yes, why do you think she told you to get more sleep?” There’s a grin. “Heather is my little Sprout, all grown up and doing amazing things. It was easy to get into her head.”
They blink. “Oh - oh! That...”. They smile. “That makes sense. I was going to ask if I could ever meet Sprout. I guess I already did.”
“It’s not common knowledge. I’ll be telling my cadre when I get home—so they can access the sympathetic ties if we ever need them. But yes, she’s my baby girl. Which is why she’s not a niece to me.”
Nevermore nods at that. “No, that would be a little House of Usher, really. I’ll keep it quiet.”
Another hug. “Thank you. I appreciate your discretion, along with so much else about you.”
They hug her once more. “Stay safe, auntie. They’re coming for you.”
“I know. I’m waiting. We’re all waiting.” She kisses Nevy’s forehead, then picks up her sword again. “Alright, my turn to bust you out.”
E’er so faintly came a tapping,
Not so sharply as a rapping
More the sound of fluids pumping
Through a heart, its valves thump-thumping
“Telltale Heart, too? Nevermore...” She gives them a sidelong look.
Nevy blinks. “What?! It’s subconscious!”
“It’s ingrained.” She laughs aloud, shaking her head. “Maybe I won’t bust down walls. Maybe I’ll just poof out of here.”
Nevy sniffs derisively, though they grin as they do it. “No respect for the classics.”
“Sweetheart. I am a classic.” She laughs, and then fades away into nothing, a translucent ghostly image lingering just for a moment.
Nevy looks around, then walks toward the heartbeat. “Time to wake up, I think.”
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