2021-02-21 - Alice's Flock

Xavier is a little confused, as the last time he went to the library it did not have all of this bizarre fog. It takes him a moment to realize that he 's dreaming, and his first reaction is to check himself to see what he is wearing, since the last dream had him dressed as some elf wizard, he is pleased to see only jeans and a cable knit sweater on his body. No awkward feelings to be had here, no sir! Still, this isn't the library that he knows and loves, something isn't right about it. Crossing his arms over his chest he looks behind the counter and frowns as he finds more fog than he ever wanted to deal with. "Hello?" He calls out in a loud whisperer. Dream or not, he is not going to break the first rule of the library!

Conner had sort of retreated since that first meeting here, despite his best efforts. He hadn't even gone to see the people that had been recommended to him. A sense of being late to the party, so to speak, overwhelmed his social anxieties. He felt foolish realizing he had been hunting in the dark for answers when others had already started flipping light switches.

There's also the fact that right now he has no maintenance people at his apartment complex, and there was a plumbing disaster. He is not currently qualified to do more than plunge a toilet, though boy is he trying to learn since Harvey quit. He was frantically coordinating plumbers and roofers all throughout the last couple of weeks.

He pads around with a frown on his face, wearing bare feet, sweat pants, a soft grey tank top that represents what he usually falls asleep wearing. He hears the loud whisper and freezes, then creeps in Xavier's direction. When the shadow-that-is-Xavier resolves itself, he says, "Xavier?" He at least recognizes the man he tried to make friends with, in his clumsy way, in the waking-world library. He also realizes this isn't the waking-world library, and looks some combination of tense and intrigued.

Moving hesitantly through the fog is Turner, longish hair in a braid on one side of his head. He's wearing... a long t-shirt, almost to his knees, that says, in collegiate style font: A D U L T - I S H, and apparently little else, his library ID dangling around his neck.

"This is the dream where I show up at work naked and everyone laughs at me, isn't it?" he says softly. "At least I have some clothes this time..." his voice carries a little more than the whisper, and bare feet pad across the slightly damp-feeling carpet in bare feet. Hearing what he thinks are other voices, he heads that way, materializing out of the fog near Xavier and Conner. "... please tell me this isn't a Dream and you're just here to laugh at me because I've forgotten my pants."

Xavier must have fallen asleep in his clothing, which is going to be unfortunate in the morning. He hears a familiar voice and furrows his brows when Conner rolls out of the fog. "Conner, I'd ask what you're doing here or what is going on, but you look as confused as I feel." He shifts his weight on his feet, which only have the protection of his socks when he notices another familiar figure. "Turner." He clears his throat looking at the shirt before trying to put his eyes anywhere else. "No I don't intend to laugh at anyone naked. I'm half Canadian I'd get my citizenship revoked." It reminds him that he still needs to get his Kindle back from the librarian.. "So.. what fresh hell is this?"

"Ah...well...everything's covered," Conner says helplessly, by way of answer to Turner's question. He rubs the back of his neck, feeling like that pretty much answers everything that needs to be answered. He reaches out to run his other hand through some of the thick fog, letting it curl about his fingers.

And then he clears his throat and drops them both. "It'll be okay," he reassures, perhaps to Xavier's question about fresh Hells or Turner's anxiety, even though he's got no concept that it will be or right to reassure it. "Let's just stick together. And ah, be ready for anything."

And now Turner is blushing a lovely shade of pink. "I'm... We're okay. It's the library, right? Nothing bad ever happens in a library. Well. I burnt popcorn once in the break room and it was awful, but other than that..." He did not just challenge the gods of irony. Turner's freckled arms come up to hug himself. His legs are very pale, and also very freckled, with surprisingly well developed calves. "Right... stick together. Maybe I can find some pants."

A pair of Turner's slacks? He'll take them! Not that he's particularly athletic OR strong, mind. The youth rushes after the pants, t-shirt fluttering after him like a dress, and finally ends up making a flying leap at the ambulatory fabric in an attempt to catch them.

"Well at least you are better covered than we were in the last dream. I am thankful for pants." Also why does he keep dreaming about Turner this is getting unsettling. At least this isn't like that other dream, and that one wasn't shared, at least he doesn't think so." When the smell hits his nose he crinkles it and sighs. "I'm afraid to ask for something, I might end up getting it and that is a scary idea." Turning to Conner he nods. "Right, stick together, we take more damage if we're apart." Thats when he notices Turner diving for pants and quickly averts his eyes.

Xavier smirks as Turner re-pants himself, but that distract is enough to keep him from noticing what is coming his way. "Conner!" He calls out as the other man disappears into the fog, and that's when he is hit with.. books? Of all of his nightmares, this was not one he ever expected. Reaching out with his powers he manages to push away at sevearl of the books, but they just keep coming. "Ouch! The the fuck! This is... this is terrible." He turns to Turner as he gets bombarded as well and snarls, turning his attention to one of the many swarms around him.

As Turner dives for the pants, he ends up in a very ungraceful and mildly scandalous position, his shirt riding up to reveal a very tiny pair of those spandex Underarmor style shorts in a brilliant shade of what his Grams would call, charitably, 'whore red'. But at least he's wearing some sort of clothes under the shirt! As he begins to struggle to pull on the pants, which are still rudely fighting with him, Turner gets clocked upside the head with one of the flying books, a hard back (probably a hard back copy of War & Peace, from the heft of it) and immediately hit again by another to the chest, which sends him sprawling, one leg in his slacks, his head spinning, blood pouring from the head wound near his right temple.

Compared to the last dream, this one is ten times worse. While he manages to at least get one of the swarms of books away from Turner, several more come at him and he is hit so many times that he just loses count. With a groan he feels himself fall to the floor, with blood pooling on his pretty white sweater. It's out of sheer frustration and stubbornness that he manages to push himself awake and get back to his feet. "I may have to rethink my rule of lighting books on fire." He says with a snarl and shakes his head, trying to focus his vision and aim for another set of books.

"Bloody HELL!" Turner doesn't have time to fight with the pants anymore, and lofts the pair off of him with one foot, all while trying to defend himself from the swarm of books still attacking him. He sweeps his hand, attempting to grapple one of the books from the air and send it flying, but it's kind of hard to do that while fighting with pants AND getting smacked in the chest so hard it threatens to stop his heart. When Xavier goes down, though, Turner is on his feet in a flash, rushing toward the man, about to bodily cover him, when he stands... and so Turner revises that into focusing on one of the books and trying to burn it, because he's really getting sick of being beat about the head and shoulders with the damn things.

Xavier still feels woozy after that last hit, but he's pressing on. After all he has no idea what is going on with Connor, nor does he know how many books are in this library that want to beat him to a pulp! Why couldn't he have fallen asleep in plate mail? Maybe he'll start sleeping in it from now on. Either way he manages to blast away another stack of books coming for him, but that doesn't stop more from hitting him. Another few wounds to his chest and he's on his knees, and another thock takes him down again. He remains still this time, deciding that maybe it's best that he just have a lil nap.

"Xavier! Nonononono!" Turner dives atop the man, shielding Xavier with his own body, as he would anyone. Right? Straddling Xavier's abdomen, the librarian gently smacks Xavier's cheek a few times, calling out to him. "You've gotta wake up, Xavier. Wake up. Come on! If you don't I'll tell everyone about the erotica on your Kindle!" Turner knows he can help heal people, he's done it before... Is he going to have to, again?

Xavier says, "With his eyes closed, Xavier doesn't have to worry about demon books flapping on him. Though he still feels one on his chest, slapping his face, and now it's talking to him. When the Kindle is mentioned his eyes snap open and he looks up at Turner, with a horrified look on his face. "You uhm... said you didn't look." Yep, his face is beet red, but he's awake. "Ehm... thanks for... uhm... waking me up." He stares up at the man sitting on his chest, and clears his throat. "I think you scared them away?""

Straddling Xavier, still, Turner smiles down at the older man, looking utterly relieved he's okay. "I peeked. Just... for a second." he bites his lower lip, cheeks red. "I... wanted to see what was making you blush so much." he admits. Still straddling Xavier, his backside atop the man's abdomen... and then he realizes exactly what it looks like, and scrambles off with surprising grace for someone usually so clumsy. "Sorry, sorry, I was just... worried. D-did you see where Conner went?" and then he's peering at one of the books, moving toward it, fascinated. "Curiouser and curiouser..."

This looks very precarious, but Xavier is a little too embarrassed to move. "Well you uh, know what it is now. So... yeah. Please don't think ill of me for.. all that on my kindle." There's a lot on there. As Turner scrambles off he grunts as he can feel all of the wonderful bruises he's going to have in the morning. "He was dragged into the fog, that's all I know." He sighs as he gets to his knees with a groan. He sounds like an old man at this point. "Conner! You still in here!" He does another whisper yell, since he hopes that the birdbooks are not aroused by noises. "Careful! It might... we both can't be knocked out."

"Oh, right..." Turner reaches out, a little hesitantly, and puts one hand on Xavier's cheek, the feather-lightest of touches, and... energies flow into the man, redirected from somewhere, before Turner pulls his hand away very quickly, blushing. "Sorry. I have to... I have to touch you to heal you. Sorry." He begins moving toward the book again, reaching toward it, reaching in and pulling out... a very tiny baguette. "Now if only I had some tiny butter..."

Xavier quirks a brow when Turner touches his cheek, but he can feel the energies flow between them. He bites his lip but shakes his head. "No it's okay. Thank you. I could heal you too if... I mean I'm not great at it but..." He'll reach out and touch Turner's arm, touching it just as light as he did, doing his best to return the favor, knowing he's likely as hurt as he is. He is then horrified when he sees the tiny baguette come out of the book. "I think I am at my capacity of fuckery for the dream." He sighs.

"It's no tiny cakes but it'll do in a pinch." Turner murmurs, sniffing at the tiny baguette experimentally, clearly curious. "I wonder if it's safe to eat?" he asks, turning once more to look at Xavier. "I don't want to... take a bite and find myself three inches tall... or going through the ceiling for that matter." As Xavier touches him, Turner freezes, meeting the man's gaze. Something passes across his face in that instant, but it's hidden just as quickly, and he looks away.

Xavier frowns and looks at the bagette. "I don't know if you should eat it, what if it's made of poison?" He does reach out to poke it, is it bread? "Though I don't know if I could handle you pocket size, but taller you could probably smush the books." When Turner freezes and looks at him, he frowns. "Uhm.. sorry I'm not great a healing, did it not work?" But he's already looking away, so Xavier attempts to look for Conner. He's really starting to dislike dreaming!

"It worked." Turner says, very softly. Oh. Oh no. Repress, REPRESS. He's blushing again, and he clears his throat, then starts casting about to find Conner, moving with a distinct lack of grace, mostly due to a lot more physical activity than he's used to. "I... miss having Cleric powers, I do know that..." he says softly, smiling to himself.

A swirl of fog moves aside to reveal a thorny rosebush, as well as Conner's shoe. They can start following the vines, which are now quiescent, as quiescent as the books are now quiescent, which is to say it moves uneasily and with threat, but without actively attacking.

Soon it may become evident why Conner is not answering. As Turner sat on Xavier Conner ended up with someone else sitting on him. Only Conner isn't having nearly as much fun.

It's a blonde woman, clad in a blue t-shirt with white jeans and white cowboy boots, with big blue eyes and a deranged grin on her face. She has a very long, cruel, wicked knife to Conner's throat, and has put one finger over his lips. She's petting fitfully at his hair with his other hand. He's already bleeding from a long cut that is on one of his arms. There is a scorched, electrical smell in the air, and some burnt vines, but she bears no wounds. Perhaps the mentalist couldn't bring himself to harm her, and perhaps he is just convinced he won't get enough 'oomph' with his untested powers to rescue himself.

Either way, it's clear he didn't leave them at the mercy of the books to no good purpose.

The location of the books is soon revealed too. They sit all around them, all but roosting on the shelf, like a pack of angry birds, all looking to the woman as if for orders.

"I wouldn't mind that spell book I was carrying about." It was very handy if not heavy, but he is very happy not to be covered in robes, or underwater, or a statue. As he heads in the direction he saw Conner disappear to, he frowns when the shoe is spotted, and the rose bush as well. "Oh I don't like this." He whispers as he gets closer and stares at the woman sitting on top of his friend. He doesn't make any sudden moves, but leans close to Turner to whisper in his ear. "If we hit her at the same time, do you think she'd fly off, or should we try and sweet talk her?" That knife isn't making this an easy play for him.

"I really, really don't like this." Turner says softly, peering at the woman straddling Conner. "I've... never hit someone before, what if we hit him?" he asks whispers, "I'm... not very powerful. I barely shine... Let's... try talking to her but if she seems like she's going to get violent, give the signal and I'll try..."

"Hi there... do... you think you could let our friend go? It looks like he's bleeding, and we should probably help... stop that. Are you hungry? I have tiny bread..."

"I know he's bleeding. I made him bleed. I needed paint for the roses."

The woman casually indicates the roses, most of which are in fact white. Save for one that is the exact shade of Conner's blood.

"If we don't get the roses right," she explains, "things get baddy-bad-bad with the Queen, and then we all have to run, and maybe drown, and that's just no good at all. One day I'll fix it all by chopping off her head, but in the meantime, we're painting the roses, painting the roses, painting the roses red."

"Okay, we'll go with that plan..." Xavier says as he frowns at the display in front of him. He watches as she gestures to the red rose and blinks several times. "Well honestly blood is a poor choice for red, as when it dries it turns brown, so you'd likely have to start all over again. Have you tried nail polish?" He asks helpfully, but he's not to sure if she'll even take that bait. "After all, I would hate for you to go through all of this hard work, only to have to do it again. We wouldn't want to disappoint the queen."

"Right, blood seems like a really... inefficient material." Turner agrees with Xavier. "If... we could find you some paint to paint the roses red, would you let Conner go? We're running late for a very important date, after all..." he glances between Xavier and Conner, unsure, but he's doing his best to keep his tone placating and friendly, calm and soothing.

She peers at them for a moment, then perks up, delighted. "It's the March Hare and the White Rabbit then! Yes, little rabbits, go on and get me some paint, and then I will let the Doormouse here go. Twinkle twinkle, little procurers!"

Conner, for his part, reaches up and slowly tries to push the knife away from his throat with two fingers. Ever so slowly. Just to see if she'll let him. She doesn't, but she pat pats his head.

"Not yet, Doormouse," she says, stage whisper. "First they have to find me paint."

"Yes, of course, we're rabbits and we're very late for the tea party!" Xavier is probably the march hare, at least she didn't call him the mad hatter! "Come White Rabbit, lets find this lovely woman some paint." He says brightly before he turns to Turner with the look on his face that says what he is feeling. Dear god let there be paint. "We will return as quick as a whip!"

"Absolutely." Turner says with a smile that indicates he knows just how insane this woman is but is going to do everything in his power to placate her. He moves swiftly, decisively, toward the periodicals and magazines, picking up his pace to a fast jog as he does. He would scold anyone running in the real library, but the real library doesn't have American McGee's Alice holding someone at knife point... or if it does, running is allowed. "We have a subscription to Better Homes and Gardens and also This Old House, and failing that we have a magazine with hunting rifles and I think maybe a rocket launcher and some ammo..." He laughs as he moves.

When Turner runs off, Xavier follows, smirking at the thought of running in a library. It's scandalous, but not as scandalous as a crazed Alice with a knife to his friend's throat! "Right! Home improvement magazines will have paint, and axes." Okay maybe not axes. Honestly what he wouldn't do for one of Turner's nerd books filled with weapons right now! Not that he didn't spend several feverish nights looking up what D&D is, that would be extreme. "I mean, I guess we just point at her an pull the trigger right? We should try the paint first, maybe we can bonk her over the head with it." It doesn't take him long to fop through a magazine and find himself a paint add, and one with lovely red paint. He frowns as he shoves his hand into the pages and pulls out a heavy can. "There, that should do it right?" He shakes it to assure himself that there is liquid inside.

Rummaging through a couple other magazines, Turner reaches in and pulls out another bucket of paint, this one a darker shade of red, almost like blood. Who would want it on their walls? Maybe the Queen of Hearts. A second can of paint for their arsenal, and Turner takes a deep breath, then begins rummaging for that weapons magazine, casually tossing glossy papers behind him as he does. In the real world he wouldn't be so cavalier, but here... "Ahah." he holds up a hunting magazine and rifles through it, pulling out a shotgun and some shells. "... I am so very glad Dad taught me basic gun safety, if nothing else."

Fortunately, there isn't much need for the shotgun.

When they bring Alice the paint she leaps off Conner, delighted. "Oh yes, this will do perfectly!"

She waves her knife around at them. "Now take up those brushes and let's..."

Only she doesn't get to finish their sentence. Alarm clocks blare. Internal clocks nudge. Sunlight pours in through windows.

And they wake. And if they're all waking up a bit more battered and in pain than they went to sleep, they nevertheless do wake.