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Spring Courtiers have kept up a rota of watching over Cedric, both refreshing his body with Contracts and Hedge fruit, cleaning and grooming him, and watching over the IV that keeps him properly fed.
This, unfortunately, is not that uncommon for Changelings; it isn't, by far, the first rodeo that any of these Courtiers have been at. Not the first time that they've brushed the hair of a comatose friend or, as Ari does now, changed an IV bag.
They hang the bag up on the hook, and settle down next to the cots in Cedric's Spring Hollow house, filled with law books and history books and lots of speculative fiction, all along the walls. His bed has been pulled out from the wall so that cots can be placed on either side. The Spring Regent lets out a soft, tired sigh, and reaches for their water bottle.
Lux pushes their way into the cottage, dressed... a little more subdued than they would usually. It's Winter. It's only fitting. Still, there's a pop of color here and there, with layered torn clothes and a hoodie over it all, neon lights faintly pulsing. They look to Ari and nod to them in greeting. "All goes well, you'll have your friend back soon." They look to Cedric. "How is he doing?"
Rosalyn followed Lux in and leaned back against the wall near the door, happy to let the Spring minions do the dirty work of caring for Cedric. She had never enjoyed that kind of fussing. She was dressed in jeans, knee high boots she normally rode riding, and a warm sweater with a hood that kept her bright gold hair contained.
The Spring attorney's shaggy hair hangs loosely around his face; his silver-dark skin has come to rest. The slim neon lines which often define his features have gone dark, and the light in his eyes? Well, they're closed.
"Thank you," Ari rumbles gently, rising and offering a hand toward Lux, and then Rosalyn, in greeting. Their touch is gentle and warm, like sun-heated rock at the end of a balmy Spring day. "He is -- as well as can be expected. He does not move or ... do much of anything." For all their usually reassuring nature, a crease of worry forms between their eyebrows, wrinkling the green marble of their skin.
Lux nods, then moves to find a place to sit down beside the bed, looking at the comatose changeling--then reaches out to touch his arm lightly. "Well, lets not put it off anymore. Ready?" they ask Rosalyn.
She nodded and moved to find a comfortable spot laying down so she could touch him on the other side. "Let's do it. Is there anything else in particular we should keep in mind going in?"
Lux smiles at Rosalyn softly, reaching to take her hand with their other. With fingers resting lightly against Cedric's arm, Lux lays back and closes their eyes. Breathing slowing, syncing with Cedric's, then forcing their psyche past that veil and into his dreams as they drift into slumber.
He doesn't respond, not at all: a Clarity coma is a disturbing sort of thing, like Sleeping Beauty taken to extremes. If only it were as easy as true love's kiss, they could just bring him an ice-cold beer and the sound of the Eagles winning and call it done.
Sleep comes easily under the power of the Contract, and they drift into slumber alongside him, easily able to arrange themselves on the cots.
The light comes back slowly, fading in like a movie slowly coming into focus. Slipstreams of silver data slide across a dark field, sliding toward a vanishing point in the near distance. Characters from every language spoken by man and some spoken by no living human course around and over them in trickles and rivulets, streaming off toward that distant point.
The light is low, and blue-tinted, and perhaps -- to Lux, at least -- familiar.
Ros sighed a little at the dark and gloomy atmosphere, shaking her head a bit and then quickly looking around to assess the setting and dramatic personae of the dream. "At least we have a direction to head," she murmured with a gesture towards the vanishing point for all things here.
Lux shines brightly now, the neon glow almost overtaking the black shadows of their body. They look around, taking in the stream of languages--pretty much all of it is lost on them, but if they can pick out any english, they'll try to read it. "Seems so," they say, moving to where the data comes together in the near distance while their eyes scan the data.
They are doing their best to focus on the task at hand, and not the wash of memoy.
The memory runs strong and deep for Lux, if only raggedly: this is the center of the Brain that the City relied upon to make decisions on where to place people and what to do.
Those slipstreams of words lead toward that central point in the distance, which becomes more visible as they move toward it. Along the way, the word buy slips past Lux, with a strange symbol following it that feels familiar, but Lux can't tell what it means, it's nothing they know the meaning to.
Sliding past Petra's shoulder, the words: no fit, discard.
In the center, where all of the words come together, they twist themselves into sleek silver-white wires, condensing down to a single plug about the diameter of an average human wrist. That plug? Stuck right into a socket on the back of Cedric's head, where his long, shaggy hair would cover it.
His hair's cropped short here, his eyes wide open and staring off blankly into the near distance. Those character zip across his eyes, swarming behind them like fireflies trapped in a jar, and his mouth moves, whispering:
"... buy... sell... predator... prey... fit... fit... no fit, discard... "
Ros was rather aghast at the wire shoved into Cedric's head. She still wasn't terribly familiar with modern science fiction tropes and shuddered. "Lux, do you have any particular insight into the plot of this dream? Because otherwise it would seem that we should remove that wire from his head to pull him out of it."
Lux's steps falter a little as it sinks in where they had seen this before--and they had likely seen this a lot. This had probably been their home, or at least a part of it, nearby and consistent, considering Lux had been the one that took those orders and programed them into people.
Their expression goes more cold and blank as they approach Cedric, hiding their reaction to the scenery. Ironic that it makes them look more like they did There.
They step around Cedric, looking at his eyes a moment, then takes a deep breath. "Looks like he is--was--the Brain, for The City. That computed where people went and... what they became." Their brows crease in thought.
"And he was put into the coma because mortals were harassing him over exposing police corruption, linked to the Proud Boys. I'm sure that must be connected, somehow, as to why he would flee back to... this place." They frown briefly. "It's far more orderly here. Everyone has their place. He doesn't have to fight for anyone. He just... puts people where they need to go."
They glance back to the plug. "We could yank it out. Or we could try to alter the code, so that he is trying to process something impossible. Something that wouldn't be allowed in The City."
"I haven't the faintest idea how I would go about that," Rosalyn admitted. "Beyond magic bullshittery, which to be honest would probably work. Perhaps we should work both ends against the middle. I'll work on the plug while you try to alter the code. I noticed the words 'discard' in apparent reference to me and would not particularly enjoy having to fight his eidolons attempting to accomplish it.
"I think he would be more likely to go into shock and rebell against the dream if we yank out the plug," Lux says thoughtfully. I'll try to rewrite the code first."
Lux walks over to the wall of data, looking over the lines of text--then lifts a hand as if holding a paint brush, painting out words over the code to try to change it--or mingle it within.
Rosalyn nodded to Lux and came to stand next to her, frowning at the stream of text. Then she reached in and rearranged letters like scrabble tiles. W-A-K-E-U-P
Lux's brows knit as if they're getting a migraine, but they do their best to focus, hand moving through the air to paint over the code.
no fit, accept. give choice. give agency. accept individuality. no fit, accept.
wake up
The code slips out of Lux's little paintbrush, glittering and gleaming: the letters turn gold instead of silver, and slip down the wires that feed into the back of Cedric's head.
no fit
no fit
no fit, accept.
wake up
accept individuality
The code flashes behind his eyes, flickering sharp and clean.
The room (is it a room? it feels like a room without walls) starts to shake and
no fit
and collapse and
w
a
k
e
the ceiling cracks open, and two large, luminous eyes look down into the room
soft and pervasive
the eyes of their dreams nightmares
the sound of an old modem screaming
all the neon lights flood their eyes
wake up
Cedric's eyes focus.
The soft lights in the Spring Cottage are still too bright.
Lux watches Cedric intently as the golden code swooshes down the wall and into the plug, watches as he struggles to make sense of it, holding their breath...
And then the ceiling breaks open and those glowing eyes shine down--and now Lux's lights all shine a vibrant, viridian green. Their eyes go wide and terrified as they stare--then fall violently back to waking, jolting back to consciousness with a scream, lights shining defensively, too brightly, almost blinding to look upon.
Rosalyn blinked a few times in surprise at just how well that code thing had worked, and then sat up and whirled to check on Cedric. The (ex?)reprogrammer Cedric. She shuddered and looked away from him again, shaking her head.
"Hey, hey... " and that's the sound of Ari's voice, coming in loud and clear as the big marble Ogre moves with a perhaps surprising swiftness, kneeling next to Lux's cot and -- unless prevented -- closing both of their warm stone hands around one of theirs. "It's okay. You're awake."
A glance toward the other cots, those dark stone eyes flickering their gaze over Cedric and Rosalyn both. "Everyone's awake. You did it. You did it. You're home, my friend. You're home. There's cocoa and food and warmth."
Cedric sits up slowly, rubbing his face, and mumbles, "What year is it?" A shadow of his usual humor, which fades, along with his rueful smile, when he sees Rosalyn look away from him. His lips press together, and he clears his throat. "Thank you."
Lux gasps for breath, scream dying at the touch--and after a couple seconds realizes that they're shining vibrant green. They grimace, then take a few slow and steady deep breaths to calm themself. It wouldn't do any good for them to give Cedric a clarity attack right after he wakes up.
The warm balm of Ari to their mind helps as well, and soon they are calm and just shining dimly, a yellowish-green rather than viridian. Their mantle is ice, ice cold, though.
"Thanks," Lux murmurs to Ari, pulling their slightly trembling hand away. They look past him to Cedric and nod. "Heh... No problem. Welcome back."
Rosalyn smiled faintly. "Think nothing of it," she murmured to Cedric. "I'm glad you're back. Being stuck in a dream and memory is never fun."
The flare of Ari's Mantle as they carefully move around the room to take Rosalyn's hand is brilliant and verdant: illusory vines run up the walls, and the smell of a green late-Spring forest swells, along with little twittery birdcall and everything. "Nevertheless, thank you, my friend. It is the service we owe to each other, but we owe you our thanks regardless."
Cedric looks down at his arms, and mumbles, "Yeah." He's still not his usual loquacious self, and he flips the insides of his arms up toward Ari. "Get this shit out of me. Now."
Rosalyn gave Ari a respectful and thankful nod, and was finally able to look Cedric in the eyes again without flinching. She got up and out of the way so the Spring minions could get to him more easily. "I am always willing to help with this task. Not always pleased to do so, but determined so."
Lux watches Cedric as the IVs are removed from his arms, expression restrained. Quiet. After a moment they push up to their feet, northern lights of their mantle shimmering a bit around them as they move. They seem like they're about to unceremoniously leave, at first, but then reach out to grip Cedric's shoulder, squeezing gently.
"It's a lot to endure. But what you're doing--now--it's a good thing. A hard, good thing. Your work came out while you were asleep, and a bunch of assholes have gotten fired, and good people are free. So take the time you need to get back on your feet, so you can keep fighting."
The Vernal Advocate sits still while Ari pulls the IV lines out of his arms, letting out a tiny, weary shudder of breath once the lines all come out of his arms and he's all neatly bandaged up. He sits still, quiet, while Lux speaks, and then one hand comes up to rub the back of his neck, and the port that they now know hides beneath his shaggy, grown-out black hair.
The lights which flicker through his dark-skinned TRON-like body are a soft blue, now, rather than silvery, and he looks up at Lux, blinking slowly. "Thank you," he repeats, and the words are soft and sincere.
Then he slaps his hands on his knees, like nothing happened at all. "Fuck, I need a beer. How long have I been out? Did the Eagles make the playoffs?"
Long Midnight - After the crowning of the Winter Queen, the Court emerges from their isolation to a feast full of light and community. Winter is not just the Court of Secrets and Sorrow; it is also the Court of Yule and Solstice and Christmas. Long Midnight occupies the moment of tension where men light candles to drive out the shadows of the longest night, and make sacrifices so that the sun will come up in the morning. The Sages of the Onyx Mirror lead the Freehold in not only revels but divination. The Freehold gathers for the Return of the Sun, and just before sunrise lights a bonfire into which each Freeholder tosses a symbol of some part of the past year that he does not wish to carry into the coming year: a photograph of a love that ended badly, a broken practice weapon from the time she lost her temper while sparring. It is considered bad manners to bring a symbol that does not burn cleanly, after someone brought a piece of rayon clothing one year. (The Sages still rant about how much everyone stank for days.
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