11921/15 Fears: A Spark in the Darkness

15 Fears: A Spark in the Darkness
Date of Scene:	07 July 2022
Location:	Robbie's Apartment
Synopsis:	Robbie is visited by a nightmare that tries to convince him that his true purpose is to be the Hunter of the Vile as the Ghost Rider. The nightmare boils over into the real world and his apartment suffers the consequences for it.
Cast of Characters:	Robbie Reyes, Chas Chandler, Rien D'Arqueness

---

Robbie Reyes has posed:
It's a typical evening at the Reyes residence, if one discounts how tense and on edge its occupants have been this past week or so. The television's been left on, inexplicably, to reruns of Pimp my Ride; and a lean, dark-haired young man is sprawled asleep on the couch with the images playing painterly across his dozing frame. Also asleep -- in his bed -- is Gabe Reyes, bags packed and ready to go for the morning.

There's a light rain falling outside, falling in a steady patter against the foliage of a number of plants crowding the tiny patio, and audible through the open door. The scent of clove smoke suggests that said young man recently stepped out for one.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    Maybe it's the television that did it this time. As the screen goes black for a moment, a common issue when networks transition to commericals the dark reflection of the room in the TV screen changes. The sleeping figure on the couch rises and turns to regard his sleeping form.

    "Hey!" the standing figure barks at his double. The voice that comes from this Robbie is, surprisingly his own--though there is something *more* in it; something feral and animalistic. The eyes are different. Deep in the recesses of the pupils is a fire. A bunring flame that begs to be set free. "Wake up! We need to talk" he says to his sleeping counterpart.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
The figure on the couch stirs slightly when someone starts shouting at him. Who the fuck is it and what do they want? Moreover, how did they get *in* here?

It isn't until the someone speaks again, that he realises it's *him*.

His response is abrupt, almost violent. His eyes drift open to take in the interloper, and he bolts upright in a rustle of movement followed by almost preternatural stillness. "Why're you here?" Not *who are you?*, but *why are you here?*.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The Robbie that might be him and might be him plus more smirks. "Because we need to talk and this was the best way to get your attention" he says, matching Robbie's own posture for stillness and wire tension. "You've been neglecting your duties" the flames in the pupils of his double flicker and burn white hot for a moment before returning to that orange and red glow.

    "Almost makes me think it was a mistake to let you have it..." he says with a smirk. "But then again, you -don't- have it. Do you? You're letting our asshole of an uncle carry it around for us. A damn waste if you ask me. An absolute damn waste."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"You got my attention," Robbie replies, voice taut. Fear builds in his chest, his throat. Like one of those middle school science volcanoes; at some point he's going to snap. It's inevitable, and it's usually ugly.

He works his jaw when the not-him starts talking about neglecting duties, fingers digging into the couch cushion. Mismatched eyes still riveted on the ones that burn and flicker, inscribed with fire. "My uncle's dead. Esa cosa retorcida y corrupta no es el. Tampoco soy yo." He grinds his teeth at those last words. About it being a waste. "What do you want?"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    "No... no it's not. But it could be, couldn't it?" the reflection of Robbie replies. "You feel the burn for vengeance and justice as much as the next guy. Better than most even..." he smirks. "And yet you deny it?" He shakes his head. "Why? Why not take it... embrace it. You could do so much with the power. Eli's a patsy at best and a fool at worst... but you. Robbie Reyes. With the power of vengeance at your fingertips, all the trouble and danger out there... you could erradicate it."

    He smiles wider, the lips stretching to inhuman levels of glee. "Use this gift to protect those you love. Rien and Gabe. They would be safe and you could crush the spirit of your dead uncle into submission and silence. But you don't want that... you don't want -this-" he holds up a hand and flames dance across the fingertips, "because you fear what you might become. You fear what you truly -are-."

Robbie Reyes has posed:
It could be. It could be his, all of it his. The power that's borrowed, loaned out to him, full of conditions. That he do another man's killing; and in return, life. In return, these hands, this breath in his lungs, the ability to be in the lives of his brother and his girlfriend instead of a decomposing corpse in a killhouse somewhere, riddled with bullets and burned beyond recognition.

Power that he could do with what he wishes.

He knows this voice. It's the voice inside his head, the one tempting him into bad decision after bad decision. The voice that isn't his, but wants very much to make him believe it is.

"You're wrong," he mumbles shoving to his feet and attempting to push past the not-him. Heading for his brother's room, banging on the door, "Hey, Gabe, wake up! C'mon, wake up, we gotta get out of here tonight. Can't wait till morning." He turns for his own bedroom door, thumping on it loudly with his palm. "Rien, baby, you there? We gotta go!"

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The hammers on the doors are unanswered. The hollow thuds of his knocking receiving no reply and the doors proving to be locked from the opposite side. "Just take it, Robbie... be what you truly want to be. Be the force of justice in the world. Eli would be simple to destroy and erradicate with you in the driver's seat." His own laughter chuckles behind him.

    "It has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" he asks. "Robbie Reyes, Ghost Rider. Robbie Reyes, hero." The laughter turns derisive. "But no. You'd rather cower and hide like prey. Instead of taking your place as a true predator. A hunter of the vile and corrupt. You let -him- run around free... instead of taking what is rightfully -ours-." Heat flares more at Robbie's back and the crackle of fire and flame increases as it tears and burns away at his visage.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
"Rien, Rien, por favor, abre la puerta! Tenemos que irnos!" He bangs and bangs on the door, and tries to shove it open with a slam of his shoulder but it doesn't give an inch. Back to Gabe's door, he starts swinging his fists at it, hard enough to shatter the wood into kindling, but can't even seem to dent it.

Now the voice is laughing at him. Mocking him for being unable to prevent this, unable to save his family. Useless. Weak. "..no." Hiding like prey. "No." He turns and slams his fist into the wall, and it should crumple like paper with the force of his blow, but it does no such thing. "NO."

Blindly, he turns to grab a chair from the kitchen table, to use as a battering ram. Just as flames start to lick at his skin, ripping through his left eye, flesh falling off him in a bright shower of embers.

Whatever else he might have said is lost to the animal roar that's torn from his throat; pure, undiluted rage.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The Ghost Rider is mirrored in this reflection as well. Two of the metal skeletons wrethed in flame. "That's it. Take it... you're a hunter. A fighter. A -monster- and it suits us just fine like that. It feels good doesn't it?" he asks himself. In this place there is no sense of Eli. It truly is Robbie in control of the Rider's fury and rage and Power. So much power all in his own hands.

    He could take this power and destroy everything... starting with this mocking reflection who thinks itself so much -better- than him. It's obviously some sort of ghost or evil spirit, right? That's the sort of creature the Ghost Rider is supposed to fight, isn't it? Why not start his new career as a true hero by saving himself from this haunting.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
A hero. Something he's always yearned to be, but what hero enjoys killing? What hero feels no remorse at all, at the body count left in his wake?

But what hero could have the opportunity at this kind of power, and turn it down? The things he could do with it, if it were all his. His to use as he pleased. Cleanse this city with fire; burn it all down to its bones, and let everything begin anew. Why shouldn't he?

He throws the chair aside, and lets it hit the wall and shatter. Stalks toward his reflection; steps slow, flames billowing from the vents in his armour, like an unholy pyre in the dark. He moves in close, until they're in kissing distance; then his hand shoots out to try to grab his shadow by the throat.

If he does, the ignition is sudden, blindingly bright, FWOOMP like a supernova.

Chas Chandler has posed:
    The reflection is smiling up to the point where the hand goes for it's throat. And then it realizes, that he's the Prey. He's the Hunted. He's the Victim. He thrashes as the fires engulf him and sear through leather, and flesh, and bone, and metal all alike. A conflagration that draws a shocked and choking scream as its hand feebly and worhtlessly scrabble and bat at the inexorable strength in the true Ghost Rider holding it in its death grip.

    The Reflection dies with a shattering of glass and flame. And Robbie wakes with a start to find himself back on the couch in his own living room. Or rather what's left of it. Fire is everywhere. The walls. The ceiling. The furniture. Everything is alight and the blaze continues to spread without err. The rush of consciousness brings the rush of that shared coexistence into the man's brain as well. Eli wasn't there in the dream, but he is definitely there now vying for control.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Robbie wakes to the sound of windows breaking and walls groaning with heat. He doesn't remember when he fell asleep, but he remembers staying up late watching television. Didn't want to wake Rien, and he's been so worried about her--

Rien. *Gabe*. The whole wall's on fire, and it's like it's melting into the floor. The television comes crashing down, ceramics pop and shatter, the upholstery on fire, everything on fire.

Robbie bolts to his feet, swimming through a sea of fire, kicking Gabe's door open. Bellowing for his brother, his girlfriend, bellowing until he's hoarse. One of the neighbours heard the commotion, smelled the smoke and called the fire department; sirens can already be heard in the distance, caroming closer.

Rien D'Arqueness has posed:
Rien's already awake. She bolted awake at the first scent of smoke. Still in pajama cami and shorts, she runs out from the bedroom in time to see Robbie leap up and rush to Gabe's room. Following him into the room, flames and heat licking at her, burning her, then healing as soon as the flames find her, she calls out, "I'm here! Get Gabe, I've got his bag and his chair!"

It takes her longer than she likes to get the portal open, the blue glow flickering in a manner that disturbs her. But this isn't the time to study it. "Go! Get him out, I'll be right behind you!" She casts a quick glance around the room, trying to assess, then waits for Robbie and Gabe to run through the portal to the safehouse. She puts the bag in the seat of the chair and wheels it through. "I'll be right there!" And she moves to close the portal so she can stay behind to try and put out the fire before it can spread to any of the nearby apartments.

Robbie Reyes has posed:
Gabe's dragged himself off his bed and onto the floor, and is huddled with his back against the wall, frozen in fear. This, after all, is precisely how they lost their parents: to a housefire. Maybe Robbie will muse on the horrific irony later.

Right now, he's focused on scooping up his brother, and sending Rien a brief look when she says she'll be right behind him. It's all he has time for; he'll have to trust her. He *does* trust her. And they'd planned for this, after all. Planned out what they'd do if Gabe's life was in danger.

He'll have to trust her. Through the portal he goes, leaving behind the woman he loves, the sound of sirens, the smell of drywall and electronics burning.

Worst of all? He knows this is all his fault.