Dream 03 → Fire Down Below

[insorrow]

Warnings: Situations of peril. Spoilers for Ken's backstory, but nothing you don't know by Episode Four.
Dream Effects: INTERACTIVE.
Notes: Aside from Ken himself, the figures in this dream all resemble the same young Japanese man. Ken knows who this is, but he isn't saying. The men will not reply if spoken to and are quietly menacing, but not

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[slantedcross]

Smoke in his eyes; that would be what Youji registers first. Not the familiar scent of tobacco smoke. Actual, honest-to-goodness, are-there-batteries-in-the-fire-alarm? smoke. Something tickles the back of his mind, something about staying low to avoid the smoke, but he's too tall to be doing so comfortably.

He's not alone; that would be what Youji registers second. He squints, trying to make out what he sees, but isn't certain. Vaguely man-shaped, but nothing else.

And footsteps overhead. Within the circle he senses the other figures to be forming, senses from the way the hair stands up on the back of his neck.

The enemy of my enemy...

"Hello?" he calls. "Who's up there?"

[insorrow]

The sound of someone's voice registers, at first, only as a break in the pattern

[slantedcross]

And the strangeness and utter impossibility of the situation hits him next. Youji last remembers lounging on his couch, trying to refine his sketches of Alice's garden into a final design. And failing. He'd finally caught sight of his watch at 11:47, leaned his head back, and mean to doze off for just a moment before dragging himself to bed.

He'd jolted awake at who knows when, exhausted, and meant to check on Ken before finally going to bed. It was a habit he'd gotten into in Germany, just to see if he shouldn't be watching the local news for unusual murders the next morning, and he'd gotten into it again since Ken had decided to be an idiot and start picking fights he couldn't win.

So he'd gone to check on Ken and ended up... here. In a burning building.

There's a connection, but his memory isn't providing him with an answer.

"It's Youji," he calls up. He reaches for his watch, and pulls out a line of wire. Just in case he needs it.

[insorrow]

Youji.

Youji. Christ, of all the people who could have fetched up here, it's Youji-- Why is it even a surprise?

"Youji--"

Ken can't quite help himself: he starts to laugh, and his laughter is breathless and hysterical and almost as choking as the smoke. He clings to the railing for dear life and laughs until he's gasping, until shortness of breath forces him to stop. Shoulders shaking, choking on the heated air, he straightens, wiping at his eyes, and peers into the clouds of choking smoke again.

Yes: there he is. Stood with a thin skein of wire glistening between his fingertips, the light of the flames dancing on the thin metal, sending it to sparkling and the guy really could do with being better-dressed for it. His feet are bare, his shirt is rumpled and, if Ken is any judge, he looks as if he's abruptly woken to find himself trapped here...

Inexplicably, Ken wonders if he should apologize to him.

"It's me," he calls, through a fit of coughing. "Ken. I can't get down."

[dimmed_shiner]

Well now, this place continued to be entertaining. For all the places Mogget had walked, he couldn't say he'd ever walked through another person's dreams. The others he'd encountered had been plebeian at best, boring. What indeed did it say for the people of this odd world that their dreams were so commonplace?

This one was the first he'd stepped paw in that was somewhat diverting, aside from the whole novelty of walking through other's dreams, which had worn off rather quickly.

Perhaps he could...

Mogget smiled, an unnatural expression for a cat, his mouth split open wide and gaping dark as his muscles stretched unnaturally under skin suddenly fitting like a loose overcoat. Yes...

And his skin split down the back, the brilliant white fur revealing even more brilliant (almost blinding) white fire. His luminance faded enough to match that of the fire raging around, though his color--or lack of it--was unmistakable, as he approached the dreamer.

[insorrow]

Ken didn't see the cat stepping calmly into the warehouse. Blinded by smoke, wiping the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand, he didn't see the look on the creature's face, didn't see the smile, didn't see it tear itself in two as it transformed.

He saw the thing it became, though - the light, burning and brilliant even through the flames that leapt and crackled about him, then slowly fading. Even harried and terrified as he was, he couldn't have missed that. Gasping, he stooped short, nearly stumbling and falling onto the catwalk. He snatched at the rail to catch himself, ignoring the burning heat of the metal, the scalding pain that seared through his palms: he turned, desperately casting about himself to try and find the source of that sudden, terrible light--

Found it in a figure stalking the factory floor, a figure which burned but was not itself consumed, with a brilliant pure white flame.

It was the figure of a man, but a man of fire - or it was man-shaped, at least, or nearly so. The figure was clearly too tall,