Mzzkc's Mind Games

??.11.2011

Initiate (Parts 1 and 2) (DILD)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

There’s so many of us.

But still plenty of room to fight.

One at a time, they all have to fall, else I’ll be the one to go down.

Still, I can’t help enjoying the thrill of battle as I face my first opponent, a looming giant of a man, with sad, soulful eyes and the strength of a monster. With one hand he’s able to catch my true blade and hold it firm even as I charge it with screaming, vibrating, blue energy.

“I’m impressed. You should be in pieces by now. . .”

Time moves forward, as do my battles. The refined, razor sharp steel of my pure white, twisted-dragon-hilt katana, reduced to a blunt club against these foes. Tearing down my Vizard mask, with every strike I release a torrent of black energy, tinted red by my gleeful fury. Teleporting in and out, around my final enemy, I brutal beat him down with one wicked slash after another, into the ground, into darkness. *

It’s over. Three of us are left standing, all of us drenched in blood. I realize we’re the same, though our methods may be different, and it makes me sick.

“I’m done with this,” I say to them.

“Done with what?” One of them asks, suspicion and paranoia in his eyes.

“This,” I motion to the battleground around us, coated in warm blood and the bodies of countless slain warriors.

Walking off, I catch one of them say, “And you call yourself an eight!”

“I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about.” I comment back, not even bothering to look.
______________

Daffodil is her name. A beautiful golden retriever, my new friend. We had spent so much time together, bonding, all in preparation for this moment, as I stand before an invisible committee.

Crouching down, stroking the top of her head to the flowing golden fur on the back of her neck, I do it quickly. My knife enters her throat cleanly, and I slide it through quickly, smoothly, minimizing her pain. But as she lies there on ground, bleeding out, I see I’ve missed the jugular. I correct my mistake immediately, ending her quiet whines, her suffering, my first task.

Now create yourself a human DC, and do the same. I hear his sick voice in my head.

No, that’s stupid. I have no issue killing illusions of my own creation.

You will do it, or you’ll fail. Him again.

But it’s pointless.

Then you fail.

. . . Fine. But I do it my way. . .

Calling out, almost immediately, I find myself a DC. A young boy named Jerry.

“Do you like baseball, Jerry?” I inquire.

“I sure do, mister,” he replies hesitantly.

“I’ve got a friend who’s really into baseball. Excellent pitcher; throws a pitch the Japanese call The Great Equalizer. . .”

And just like that we’ve formed a bond, Jerry and I. We walk for a bit, before I tell him I’ve got something to show him.

“What’s that, mister?”

I can hear he’s nervous as I draw my knife, the one I’d used a short time ago.

“This is my knife. Nice, isn’t it?

“What do you use that for?”

“Oh, killing, mostly.”

He steps back, fear on his face, and I know how much this is going to suck for both of us. So, with a flash, I activate my Geass, imprinting my will over his own. Now all Jerry wants, with his entire being, is to die by my hand. So I oblige, placing my hand on his shoulder and slashing open his throat. To quicken things, I drive my blade into his stomach and drive it upwards, destroying his heart, without breaking any bones.

He’s dead before he hits the ground.

Things begin to fade. . .

Creative. His voice, sickeningly friendly, breaks the silence, keeps me tied to the dream.

He was just an illusion. I told you already, killing DCs is meaningless.

Really? Then I suppose you wouldn’t have any trouble killing a DC of your mother? I can almost see his twisted grin.

Nope.

To prove a point, I whip up a DC who looks just like my mother, cut her throat like the others, hit her onto the ground, and stomp her skull into bits, her brain into mush.

I feel no remorse.

You have issues. He seems stunned and taken aback.

Like I said. Just a DC.

08.07.2010

Ideals: The Hunt (Non-lucid)

★★★☆☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

RAT-AT-AT-AT-AT-AT

Gorrammit. There's too many.

Countless mechs surround me from all sides, as I flee ever deeper into the cave. Capable of taking me out at any time, they seem to be making a sport out of chasing me. If they knew who I was. . . If they knew I was the Head Imperial General in charge of the war effort. . . I'd be dead right now.

I consider using Geass to take them all out at once, but I'm not confident I can imprint that many at a time, and if I fail, then my power and identity would no longer be a secret. Everything I had struggled and fought for all these years would be for naught. I have to keep moving.

Off to my right, on a raised rock ledge, their Ace Pilot comes into view. He fires a burst from his gun that glances off my armor as I veer to the side to avoid the brunt of the attack.

Hmm. . . I've got an idea.

I focus on the Pilot and activate Geass, feeling his mind wipe clean as my will overtakes him. Just like that, he turns his fire onto his former allies, in an attempt to protect me. He does pretty well, allowing me to make quite a bit of headway into the cave. Almost home free, I exit the narrow passageway into a huge, open cavern.

Frak me.

Lining the tiered walls are hundreds of mechs, waiting to to open fire. Their ambush sprung, there's only one thing I can do to defend myself. . .

My Geass explodes outward in a shock-wave originating from my glowing eyes. I see every mind it wipes, all the desires, all the fears, all the intricacies that made that mind unique. It's too much; there're too many; I'm losing my grip. . .

I awaken.

06.07.2010

Ideals (Non-lucid)

★★★★☆

NON-DREAM DREAM LUCID

It's been decided. Tomorrow morning, I am to be put to death for my rebellious actions against the Empire. My comrades share the same fate. As we leave the presence of our judge--Vader himself--each of us is taken in a separate direction by our respective escorts.

It's night-time on the snowy planet; I only have hours left to live. The prospect is overwhelming, yet the only thing on my mind is an incredible yearning to sleep outside in a bed made of snow.

Taken by my subdued charm, the female guard arranges for this final request to be fulfilled. Time lapses by and, sure enough, I am presented with a mattress filled with soft, cold, pure-white snow. They place it in a trailer, open to the elements, on a bed-frame adorned with heavy leather straps. Contemplating how my last night on earth will be spent strapped down to prevent my escape, I barely notice the giant commotion going on around us.

A powerful being of some kind is attacking the base with huge doll-like creatures. Each guard around me leaves the area, assuming I'll do the right thing and strap myself down. . . It's a good thing I'm no idiot.

Panting, I duck behind a broken concrete barrier as the cold air rips in and out of my lungs. Far from the main compound, it will take some time for them to find me, especially if they think I'm still in the trailer. Now a fugitive with no way off the planet, I decide it's time to sever my ties with the Rebels and start anew. . . . .

Years pass, and in that time I become a distinguished officer in the ranks of Stormtroopers, to the point where everyone at Central knows my name. I had gotten to my position by infiltrating HQ years ago, assassinating a lowly officer, assuming his identity, and avoiding contact with Vader and anyone else who might have recognized me, all the while making the right connections and moving up the chain of command. I was determined to change the system from the inside out, and I'm well on my way. . . . .

Walking slowly along the run-down, grey-paneled corridor, my dark blue cape flows behind me as I walk. Stopping before the rental apartment door, my age-hardened face smiles weakly behind this forsaken mask. Even now, I, a High General of the Empire, second only to the new Empress herself, find it necessary to hide my identity, lest someone from my past recognize me.

Things across the galaxy have changed since I received this new power. This power, the power of Geass, allows me to permanently imprint my will upon anyone I so choose. I've found it useful in reshaping the Empire into a sovereign entity that imposes happiness on the inhabitants of the galaxy, forcefully if necessary.

Unfortunately, while it was easy for me to bring down the original Rebel Alliance with my newfound ability and former connections, this new resistance to our mission of peace, prosperity, and blissful ignorance is proving more difficult to tranquilize. So, in order to further my our agenda, I 'convinced' the Empress to re-allow the training of force users, assuring her I'd handle any rogues personally.

Behind these doors was one such rogue. Obviously, a full-on confrontation would most likely end in my death. Thankfully, my Geass has grown strong enough to work with almost no restraints. The door opens.

Across the room, leaning on a balcony rail overlooking the city, is the force user. He turns quickly, eyes going wide, hand raising up--but it's too late. My Geass has already taken effect, wiping away this poor fool's mistaken ideals and replacing them with a more perfect set. A set that will ensure his obedience toward the Empress, but more importantly his undying loyalty to me.

The deed done, I leave with my new pawn trailing behind me. However, there is no time for celebration, I still have a war to win, and an entire galaxy of people that need my help finding happiness.