10721/The Bean Dream

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The Bean Dream
Date of Scene: 12 January 2020
Location: The Bean Dream
Synopsis: Phantasm happens upon one of Bean's nightmares. He helps.
Cast of Characters: Samuel Morgan, Phantasm (Drago)




Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Sunday, late afternoon, sees Bean in his room, exhausted. His new work out routine, out of necessity hidden from the rest of the students and indeed the faculty, is draining him of energy far faster than he had anticipated. Hot on his heels, Bear trots into the room, takes one glance at his human and then settles down at the foot of the bed. As expected, the teenage technopath changes the sign outside of his door as a warning not to come knocking, locks the door behind him and staggers off to his bed...

    ... beyond his bed, collapsing on the sleeping bag he prefers over the large double bed which, despite months of adjusting to a more normal life, still doesn't feel natural. He's not the type to just take naps or indulge in laziness. But today, knuckles still raw from their impacts on the punching bag, he's asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

    And as usual, as soon as his eyes close, the dream begins...

    The corridor is long and devoid of life. Strip lights flicker overhead, casting the concrete walls in an even starker relief. With the clarity of focus only ever found in dreams, every dimple of the concrete stands out, every highlight, every trick of the light. A dread fear has clamped itself around the dreamer's heart, whose point of view is at least a foot below Bean's usual vantage point.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As Samuel takes in his surroundings, there is one element off from what he may have seen in the past. The flickering of the lights just provide a strobe light type effect as a hint of purplish black feathers flap on the other side of the fire door.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Fear. The sensation is palpable, nearly taking on a physical presence of its own. Shadows become creatures that exist for a mere moment, and Bean's right hand drops to the pistol holstered at his side. It's a practiced motion, instinctive and reassuring. He's armed. There is a chance.

    Footsteps behind him. The Dreamer hurries on, into a more brightly lit area, passing several sigils of a Hydra head painted on the walls. Cameras... security cameras everywhere. They see him. They track him. He can feel them tracking him. They know. Time is crucial now, the window of opportunity is shrinking with every second.

    Around a corner and into a wider corridor with actual people in it. All of them dressed in the same uniform, all of them with identical faces, identical expressions, slightly formless but menacing. They watch him. They know.

    He turns from their gaze, catching his reflection in a glass partition window. The HYDRA symbol on his body armor writhes and hisses, lunging at him from the reflection. It knows. They know. Everyone knows. Everyone looks.

    He recoils, turns and hurries off down the corridor. Behind him, everyone turns to follow, in perfect lock step.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Perched upon the doorframe, a raven watches the scene below, head tilting curiously. The phantasm hops off its perch, gliding after the scene quietly. Still trying to figure out what's going on. The head turns, looking to the giant logo painted on the wall and then to the zombie like soldiers. "...what fresh hell is this?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Bean's footsteps echo from the walls, being drowned by the marching thud of the legion behind him. He walks faster... faster... and finally breaks stride, double timing along the corridor, leaving the host behind. They do not run, they famously do not run. But they do not stop. It's a matter of time. More join the horde from cross passages. The group becomes a mob. The mob becomes an army.

    Finally, the Dreamer's eyes fall on a sign, pointing the way to the medical bay. He runs. The cameras track his every move.

    In the distance, a door slams.

    Another corridor, an intersection. A group of figures is double-timing towards the Dreamer. He stops. They stop. The faces of these figures are clear where the others were muddled. These people are known. They are friends. Memories of times shared, of jokes, of ... of blood shed together. They flash before the Dreamer's eyes.

    The rest happens in slow motion.

    The group reach for their own weapons, eyes locked on Bean like the targeting sensors of a Sentinel. His own hand falls on the back strap of his pistol, thumb falling to the safety selector as the weapon clears the holster. Of them all, Bean is fractionally the faster, although it feels as if his pistol is glued to the holster. The weapon is heavy, heavier than it should be, it takes an agonising eternity to bring it to bear.

    The pistol is in mid lift when the Beast comes around the corner. The Hydra, its heads snapping towards the Dreamer, stalks into the corridor like the promise of death itself. The pistol changes target, is aimed at those monstrous heads. Two in the center, one at the top.

    The striker snaps forwards, the primer ignites the charge, a bullet soars. Followed by another. Then another as the action cycles, brass ejecting, glinting in the harsh light.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
Seeing enough, the Raven's wing flaps faster towards the large creature. Mid air, gliding over the crowd, the form shifts, increasing in size. The wings fold forward, forming into legs while the tail feathers extend, beak elongating. Feathers, soon becoming furry in appearance as the bird has now become a large Grey Wolf.

Mouth open wide, the jaws clamp down on one of the Hydra heads in a savage bite. Claws sink into the form as well

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Three high velocity rounds scream through the air at the Hydra, overtaken by a sudden grey blur. A wolf? The walls of the corridor shimmer and ripple... that was not part of the usual dream. Bean questions what he sees, questions reality, questions himself. The Hydra shrieks as it is bitten and shimmers, transmuting into a kindly looking older man that seems confused to be where he is, surprise on his face.

    The hydra, the shadow of its essence, tumbles forwards, into the path of the bullets.

    For the first time since the incident, the first time since the nightmares began, Herr Doctor Ludwig Eisen does not get shot by his own son, does not receive two bullets to the heart and one to the head like he has done practically every night for years.

    Shadows fall away from the group opposite, their positions shifting slightly. Four have their pistols aimed at Bean. One... one is very deliberately taking aim at the good Doctor, and shoots him twice in the chest, once in the head.

    Bean screams, hardly feels the high velocity bullets that impact his body armor... mostly impact his body armor. The corridor is suddenly filled with a red mist.

    Bean's scream turns into a roar.

    Shot after shot leaves the Dreamer's pistol. Aimed at heads, necks, exposed holes where the enemy's armor doesn't quite close over the chest. The slow motion becomes a rapid blur, and the group ahead goes down. Hard.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As the Hydra turns into a man, the wolf ends up leaping back, assessing the way the dream turned. Bodies on the floor. The dreamer still standing. And added bonus, the wolf is not being shot at. The six foot long animal looks to Bean, lips tinted a little red from the bite but not as messy as it could be. Blue eyes assess Samuel, head tilting curiously before the furry butt sets on the floor.

The mouth opens, giving a bloodied but unthreatening smile, tongue flopping out. The tail thumps on the floor. Phantasm good boy. Phantasm bite Hydra head. Hydra head not happy. Good phantasm. Good.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    For a brief moment, the Dreamer shimmers. Bean's representation in the dream starts to warp, the pistol fusing to his right hand, a combat knife attaching itself to his left. The HYDRA symbol on his now damaged body armor writhes and slithers away from its position, growing... growing...

    Blue eyes turn red. The Dreamer grows monstrous, turns into a Hydra bristling with weaponry, snarling towards the nearest thing it can find. The nearest thing it can find. The nearest... nearest thing...

    Good dog. Who's a good dog? Good dog!

    Bean's eyes snap open.

    Not a lot of time has passed since he fell asleep, but the first thing he sees is the tongue of Bear licking his face, the Shepherd laying on top of his human, waking him from the nightmare. Taking a shuddering breath, Bean wraps his arms around his friend's neck and buries his face in the fur, shaking with anxiety.

    His room is as he left it. At the end of the corridor, so having the advantage of having twice as many windows as other dorm rooms. It's a large room that, for reasons of safety, he doesn't share with anyone else. The large double bed is made with care and precision, the desk is tidy, his books still sit alphabetised by author on the book shelf, a collection of English and German literature. Everything is squared exactly, everything is as it should be.

    It's a room that would make a drill sergeant weep with joy.

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
As the dreamer starts to take form, the wolf's ears droop as the eyes look up to the looming form, giving the most pitiful expression. Well shit.

As the dream breaks apart. The wolf ends up pitching forward tumbling out into the waking world in one big furry tumbleweed, smacking into the desk. A book wobbles, falling down, passing through the figure. The wolf gives a sigh, just lying there.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    With his eyes closed, Bean has no idea that he and Bear aren't alone. There's too much going through his head to think too clearly in any case, the fear and stress of the nightmare only slowly abating. But the dream always has him paranoid, and the book falling might well as been as loud as a cannon shot.

    His head snaps immediately in the direction of the sound, eyes scanning the room for threats, holding Bear closer and ready to lift his canine friend away from danger. Which makes it all the more surprising to see... the wolf from his dream?

    Bear looks in the same direction, worried about his human, and the Shepherd cants his head to the side, expressive face displaying surprise. "Whurf?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The wolf takes a few moments to take in the surroundings, frowning at the stillness of the new dream he got ejected into. Most Boring Dream Ev-

The bark causes the wolf to turn its head, looking to the dog's shadow, not recognizing the dog as a result. "Wuf?"

The phantasm shifts, sitting up to get a better look at the dog on the bed... With feet shaped lumps. The head turns, looking over to the occupant. "-Bean?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    With great care, almost exaggerated care, Bean lifts Bear off him and sets him down on the floor, giving a series of whistles. Bear whines softly and quickly scrambles under the bed, peering out anxiously. One of his paws has pushed the bandana neckerchief aside to reveal a large push button attached to his collar, one large paw resting on top and ready to push down. It was never really explained what type of service dog Bear is, but that looks suspiciously like a remote panic alarm.

    Bean rises from the sleeping bag, breathing deeply, fists clenching. Those eyes... aside from being the wrong color, they have the exact same set as that monster in the dream. "You have a single sentence to explain yourself. For your sake, it had best be good."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The Wolf sits quietly before the form shifts. Fur fading into purplish black feathers, the front legs contorting into wings and the snout turning into a beak. Along with this, the large form shrinks down to a much less intimidating height of 26 inches.

The raven looks back to Bean. Head tilting before he opens his beak. "You looked like you needed help so I helped."

There. One sentence.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Shapeshifter. With a quick check, Bean makes sure that all the windows are still closed. They are. The door is still locked. Nobody came in with him except for Bear, he knows that for certain. He checked.

    "Not good enough. We've never met, so you lie. Try again. You lie, you die."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The raven sighs, shaking his head, "I'm also a dream traveler. Normally when people wake up I get booted to the next dream world but every so often, this happens..."

He spreads his wings out, gesturing to the room and then pointing to the underside of the bed, "Is Bear ok?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    As an explanation, it has the advantage of being completely and utterly off the wall, and therefore probably true. In Bean's experience, when faced with the unexpected, perfectly rational explanations are probably a ruse. And, of course, he has seen a lot of odd things in the last few months, so being confronted with a being that travels through dreams isn't too much of a stretch. If you can travel through hell, why not dreams? Seems nicer, somehow.

    The show of concern for Bear clinches it. There is another whistle, and Bear scrambles out from under the bed, cautiously coming up to his human... who kneels down to give the Shepherd a fierce hug. Almost instantly, Bear's tail starts to wag... crisis averted. "He's fine. But he has a panic button for when I .. when... " When the monster breaks out. "... in case help is needed."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Ok." The bird gives a bit of a shrug, giving a rather quick acceptance to the explanation. He hops up, perching on the chair back before looking to the pair on the other room. Not moving closer, leaving as much distance as physically possible in the bedroom.

The bird actually frowns visibly, "So. Do you get Nightmares often?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    A series of pats ends the hug, but Bear sticks close to Bean regardless as the teenager sits down. On the bed... an item of furniture clearly not frequently used. "Only every time I dream. Which is normally every time I sleep. It's always the same one, where I shoot my father in Nightingale Base. Some things you don't forget." Except that's not what happened this time. And Bean looks away, frowning, eyes flicking side to side as if he's reading... recalling the dream sequence. "I thought he was one of them when he came around the corner. Trying to get the first shot in, so... I shot him." Blink. "Didn't I?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Hmm." Comes the sound of discontent with the answer. The bird shakes his head. "I'm not a psychologist or anything like that but, I've spent a lot of times in dreams and I've read up a little bit on the topic because I SOMEHOW am a little curious on the topic for some reason..."

Funny that. "But- Your brain, does not record every single detail. It'll record what it thinks are the key points, and then will just guess at the details."

"When's the last time you've had a full night's sleep?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    It shouldn't come as a surprise that the answer to that question is almost instantaneous. "September 21st, last year. Although I suspect being knocked unconscious and kept medically sedated doesn't count." Yup. That was the last night Bean had /not/ had a nightmare.

    "My therapist says the same. That under stress, especially after trauma, we only remember what we believe happened rather than what actually happened. I'd like to believe that. But every time I think about the shoot out, I remember pulling the trigger and seeing my father go down. It's something I have to live with."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The bird gives a weak smile at the mention of the therapist. "Ok good, you ARE talking to someone about this. I know it can be frustrating at times because it takes awhile, but it does help over time."

The smile fades at the bird looks at Bean, wings folding like arms as he considers things.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I am required to talk to someone about this." Bean corrects, putting extra stress on the requirement part. "And why am I talking to a raven? Either we're still in the dream, which means you're part of a lucid projection of my psyche, which would be fairly bad in its implications... or we are awake, and I am hallucinating you, meaning I'm having another mental breakdown. Which shouldn't happen, because Bear would have pushed the button by now and Laura would have busted in here to knock my ass out." All fairly disturbing options, really.

    "So for the sake of my own mental health, I will presume you are real, and we are in what we laughably refer to as The Real World, which means I better not find any bird crap on my desk chair later."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"I don't do projectiles unless that projectile is me." The bird replies quickly regarding the crap talk.

Phantasm extends one wing to press against the desk ledge, effectively rolling the chair away from the desk before sliding down to the seat. Crossing its legs and leaning back like he's in a therapist's chair. "Ok listen, I wasn't exactly leaping at the chance to talk to someone either when I started talking to one either. But if you keep up with it, it does help. It even helped me sleep, when I remembered to go to bed. And yes. This is the waking world."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "I'm not saying it doesn't help, but it's part of my parole agreement. It wasn't my choice, and it can't be my choice for another five years." Which also might explain a few things about Bean. Especially why someone like him is out loose in New York, and even going to a very exclusive boarding school. Unless of course this massive room in what appears to be a mansion is owned by his family. There certainly isn't much to indicate that this is a dorm room. "Do you have questions about what you saw?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The bird leans forward, chuckling, "It wasn't my choice either." He shakes his head, "The only question I'm going to ask is if you'd be willing to let me try something that might help you temporarily. It's not permanent. One day, Two tops."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    At this, Bean leans forwards, a sardonic smile on his face. "You're asking me to let a talking bird that traveled in through my dreams do something that I'm going to have to take on trust, that will temporarily help me get a good night's sleep?" Those blue eyes seem to smile along, the first real emotion they've shown in quite some time. "If you were a human, or humanoid... human shaped, whatever, even vaguely... I could tell if you were lying to me. But you're a bird. All I know about body language from birds comes from observing my friends with wings. You don't act like a bird, you act like a human that's taken the shape of a bird. So I can't tell what you're intending."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The bird considers Bean quietly. He looks over towards the dog, then back to Bean. "...Very well."

The figure doesn't get up and instead remains reclined in the chair, wings folded, legs crossed. But there is still movement. The feathers start to flatten, fusing together as the purplish black lightens to a charcoal grey. There is still a bit of fluff, but more in the form of sweat pants and hoodie as the form grows in height.

The legs bend at the knee, dark gray velcro shoes setting down.

There is no view of the wearer's face as black material underneath the hood blocks it from sight.

A black gloved hand lifts up, palm upwards as the head cocks to the side, "Happy?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Whurf". Bear reacts before Bean does, although the mutant has seen his fair share of transformations... including some that were quite gruesome to watch. The Shepherd, being every bit as bright as his human, knows that smell. Or, at least, has smelled it before. And since it's not a smell he associates with Bad People, the canine's reaction is a happy whurf and a wag of the tail. Which is, really, all the confirmation Bean needed.

    With studied nonchalance, the teenager leans back, putting his hands next to him on the bed. "You pass the Bear test, that's good enough for me."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
The masked person sitting across from Bean gives a nod to the dog, "So Gracious, Bear. Good boy."

The head turns, pointed towards Bean, "Now. Three things about the thing I want to do for you."

The phantasm lifts up his hand, counting each off with a finger. "One: It is temporary, Two days at the most. Two: It will require me touching you. Three: It is not a substitute for the therapist. This is only to help you get sleep. Do you wish for me to try it?"

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    Hearing his name, Bear perks up, sitting at full attention, tail wagging furiously. He gets an affectionate pat between the ears as Bean considers the offer, and the person offering it. How desperate is he for a good night's sleep? How much easier would it be to get rid of this unknown person who has seen something he really shouldn't have, and how hard would it be to get rid of the body afterwards? Both these things are getting equal consideration right now.

    "Alright then." he says at long last, eyes narrowing for a moment. "But you've seen what I'm capable of. And that was when I was a lot younger. I feel like any further verbal threats beyond this point would be superfluous."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Dread Pirate Roberts, You are not."

Unlike when occupied with the bird, the chair does give a slight creak as the person gets up, walking over to Bean. He pauses, about a couple feet away.

He gives a slight nod before lifting both hands up, fingers lacing to a straight line , thumbs pressed together, and head tilted forward.

A low whisper emits from underneath the mask,

'One thing to ask
a tone demure
Raphael's flask
give me a cure.'

As Phantasm does his slight chant, there is a mild glow to his hands. The masked face tilts up, before one hand lifts, the light transfering to that hand. An index finger extends, ploinking bean between the eyes.

The figure stays still, taking a deep breath as the light fades into Bean. Room growing dark again, the gloved hands clap together, "Okay. Done!"

He steps away, form shifting, and yet seeming a bit of the same. Something's different.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Piracy is one of the crimes I've never committed..." is Bean's reply. There's every chance he has never seen The Princess Bride, and even every possibility that he never read the book. Pop culture references tend to be lost on him...

    He watches the light with interest, but to be fair he's most likely watching those hands instead. Any movement he doesn't like and... well, there was the example in the club. His hands twitch when the finger extends, but they are kept on the bed with a conscious effort. No need to get worked up, it's just a light...

    A light that fades.

    "So now what? Am I supposed to feel something?"

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"No." Phantasm replies, "But you're probably going to get the best sleep you've had in months." He turns his head, "I should get going. And you," He points to Bean, "should go back to bed."

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "And how exactly where you planning on getting out of here without setting off half a dozen alarms?" It's a fair question, and Bean tries to make it sound casual, showing that for once he didn't intend that as a threat. "You're not supposed to be here. And no offense, but you also can't know where you are."

Phantasm (Drago) has posed:
"Well, I wasn't planning to BE here." the phantasm replies, "And I guess I'll have to leave the same way I came." He lifts up two fingers in a mock salute before his form shifts back to that of the raven. "Sweet Dreams, Bean!"

Wings flapping, the raven silently taking flight, heading straight to the closed window, vanishing from sight just before reaching it.

Samuel Morgan has posed:
    "Fair point." Bean concedes as he watches the raven fly away. There's a good chance that all of it was a charade to get away, a dream intruder caught by a victim, but... there's a chance that, maybe, possibly, this creature was on the level. And if it was, Bean isn't going to waste any opportunity. He is, after all, still exhausted from all his gym work.

    To give himself the best chance, he decides not to climb back into the sleeping bag, and instead tries out the bed for a change. It's too soft, it's too high off the ground, it's too large, but... maybe, just maybe, he can start to associate it with a good night's sleep. Another whistle, and Bear jumps up on the bed, curling up next to his human.

    Because hope springs eternal, Bean hugs the German Shepherd around the neck as he settles down to try to get some sleep. It's foolish. He knows it is. Miracles don't just... happen... out... out of.. thin...

    zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz