Felix (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
prosperus) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
hadriel_logs2016-05-17 08:40 am
prosperus) wrote in hadriel_logs2016-05-17 08:40 am
(no subject)
Who: Locus and Felix
What: Shared dreams during the dreamwalking event
Where: The minds of two very screwed up men
When: May 16-26
Warnings: Violence, language, death
[ It starts the same way it always does. New Alexandria. Their orders are simple: evacuate the civilians. Get as many people as they can the hell off the planet before the whole fucking thing is glassed. Predictably, it isn’t that simple.
They’re overrun. Covenant troops are everywhere. Evac ships are exploding in the sky in brilliant bursts of blinding light. Between that and the gunfire, the screams and blasts from the enemy ships, it’s a wonder he’s not deaf yet. Probably would be if not for the helmet’s protection. It protects him from the smell too: the acrid tang of burning metal, the foul miasma of charred flesh and hair. He’s tired, the rifle’s getting heavier by the minute and his armor’s dripping with so much blood he knows some of it has to be his. There's a corvette up there somewhere that's going to start blasting them at any minute. But they can do this. They have to do this. Otherwise the bastards are gonna win and Felix’ll be damned if a bunch of freaks take him out now.
As he spins to fire off another round into a surging mass of aliens fighting their way ever closer to their position, his back fetches up against Locus’ with a muted thunk. The fear, until now like a pulse beating in time with his heart, abates with the realization that he’s not alone. That's when he throws back his head and laughs. Bring ‘em on, he thinks with exhausted recklessness. Together, they’re invincible.
And then it changes, the wartorn landscape of New Alexandria obliterated by bleak devastation. Bombardments from the Covenant ships. Blackened, blasted land. Horror, nausea, the sickening sense that they’re fucking stranded on this dying rock.
They’re in the Highlands. There are trees here, though not for long. The Covenant is coming. If they listen closely, they can hear the distant sound of the ships destroying yet another part of the planet. They'll be upon them soon. There's nowhere to run.
Breaking away from the pointless task of scanning the sky, Felix glances toward Locus. Still alive, but for how long? He’s worried, terrified, certain that they’re going to die, all of his earlier confidence as wasted as the cities they fought so futilely to save. But he can’t let Locus know, can’t let him see how rattled he is. So his voice is light, carefree, like he’s having one hell of a good time and not on the verge of screaming. ]
Think we’ll see some fighting today? All this downtime’s killing me.
What: Shared dreams during the dreamwalking event
Where: The minds of two very screwed up men
When: May 16-26
Warnings: Violence, language, death
[ It starts the same way it always does. New Alexandria. Their orders are simple: evacuate the civilians. Get as many people as they can the hell off the planet before the whole fucking thing is glassed. Predictably, it isn’t that simple.
They’re overrun. Covenant troops are everywhere. Evac ships are exploding in the sky in brilliant bursts of blinding light. Between that and the gunfire, the screams and blasts from the enemy ships, it’s a wonder he’s not deaf yet. Probably would be if not for the helmet’s protection. It protects him from the smell too: the acrid tang of burning metal, the foul miasma of charred flesh and hair. He’s tired, the rifle’s getting heavier by the minute and his armor’s dripping with so much blood he knows some of it has to be his. There's a corvette up there somewhere that's going to start blasting them at any minute. But they can do this. They have to do this. Otherwise the bastards are gonna win and Felix’ll be damned if a bunch of freaks take him out now.
As he spins to fire off another round into a surging mass of aliens fighting their way ever closer to their position, his back fetches up against Locus’ with a muted thunk. The fear, until now like a pulse beating in time with his heart, abates with the realization that he’s not alone. That's when he throws back his head and laughs. Bring ‘em on, he thinks with exhausted recklessness. Together, they’re invincible.
And then it changes, the wartorn landscape of New Alexandria obliterated by bleak devastation. Bombardments from the Covenant ships. Blackened, blasted land. Horror, nausea, the sickening sense that they’re fucking stranded on this dying rock.
They’re in the Highlands. There are trees here, though not for long. The Covenant is coming. If they listen closely, they can hear the distant sound of the ships destroying yet another part of the planet. They'll be upon them soon. There's nowhere to run.
Breaking away from the pointless task of scanning the sky, Felix glances toward Locus. Still alive, but for how long? He’s worried, terrified, certain that they’re going to die, all of his earlier confidence as wasted as the cities they fought so futilely to save. But he can’t let Locus know, can’t let him see how rattled he is. So his voice is light, carefree, like he’s having one hell of a good time and not on the verge of screaming. ]
Think we’ll see some fighting today? All this downtime’s killing me.
no subject
Everything changes and he becomes tense then battle ready. The surroundings look familiar in a vague sort of way. But it's not until the sangheili speaks that Locus realizes where he is. He stops, his forward movement arrested by metal that he would've crashed directly into had he not. Locus doesn't even bother trying to hide that he's not listening, no. His head snaps over watching, waiting for...
Well, he's not sure what. But he knows this is from the portal, remembers what it was like and the sound of that voice. He wonders if that was Felix's vision, of Locus abandoning him. For a moment he contemplates staying silent so he can hear more—are they back at the temple?—but decides he's spent enough time remaining silent. ]
No, I won't abandon you. However our partnership is over, Felix.
[ And not simply because he died. ]
no subject
Locus would never say that. ]
Oh, yeah, sure. You're Locus, right? [ He scoffs. ] Uh huh. I'm really convinced.
[ Swinging back around to face the alien, Felix aims the gun again. The urge to put a few bullets into the thing is increasing rapidly. ]
Try again. I know him. The real Locus. And Locus wouldn't leave me. We need each other. Which I'm sure isn't a concept a fucking computer program like you can understand.
no subject
He's scared.
There was a time when Locus didn't think Felix actually felt fear. He was too foolhardy, too arrogant, too everything that makes him up to be the pain in the ass that Locus knows. Fear wasn't a factor. But, he can recognize it now. He sees it so clearly now and only wishes he had before.
For several silent moments he watches Felix and feels... nothing. He feels nothing and that's. Something. What that is, he can't say for certain. There's no way Felix knows him, not the real him. Not even Locus does so it's impossible for someone else to. Once again he's stricken with the urge to attack Felix where he stands or just walk away to not deal with this bullshit any longer. ]
No, you don't. You know what you helped create.
[ Because he did. Locus allowed Felix to push and prod him in the direction he wanted, in what suited his needs best. There was never any interest in Locus' thoughts at all. ]
I don't need you. [ He doesn't. Perhaps he never did. ] Fight all you wish, but it will not change. We're through.
no subject
No. No. You shut up! You aren't him!
[ He almost pulls the trigger. Almost blows this poor imitation away. He's not listening to this anymore. He's not. But he doesn't pull the trigger. He just backs away, keeping the fake in sight. ]
I'm listening to your lies anymore!
[ It blurs, the image shifts and...
And Felix wakes up, breathing as hard as if he's just spent the last hour running laps. There's sweat on his face, matting his hair to his forehead, and when he lifts a hand to brush it out of the way, he finds that it's shaking.
A dream, he tells himself. A nightmare. And it would be comforting, would steady his hands and slow his breathing, were it not for the knowledge that seeps in as the disorientation of sleep wears off.
The betrayal on Chorus. Hadriel. This isn't his room back at base. It's some weird seashell bullshit in the middle of nowhere. He tries to tell himself that at least he's still alive.
It doesn't help. ]