3599/Court of Owls: Red Dead Redemption -- Dreams and Nightmares

Court of Owls: Red Dead Redemption -- Dreams and Nightmares
Date of Scene:	28 September 2020
Location:	Unknown Location. Likely Gotham.
Synopsis:	Red and Red awaken and take stock of their captive surroundings...
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Jason Todd

---

Tim Drake has posed:
The room was lit only by an oil lamp, dim hazy light coming from the nightstand beside the bed. There are no windows, only a single door that's clearly been heavily reinforced. But the rest of the room could have been taken directly from any well-to-do home in the 1700s... the nightstand, armoire, and bed are all matching antiques, hand carved wood, buffed and shined. The walls are papered in cream and tawny, with a recurring owl motif.

On the bed, Tim Drake lays, fast asleep, and sleeping hard, on top of the tan and brown bedding. He's dressed in the same clothing he was taken in: navy blue slacks, a light blue dress shirt.

The only other strange thing in the room is a long tube that looks like something from a steampunk novel. Metallic and wooden, with tubes and gears around it, and a glass window that allows one to see in.. or out. Inside the closed tube is the still form of Jason Todd, who is not dressed as he was taken... instead of armor over a t-shirt and boxers, now he is dressed in the brown owl-like garb of the talons from the neck down, though his face is left free of the mask and visible.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason wakes from one nightmare to another unsure which he likes the least. The first, while he slept was endless drowning in darkness, over and over, until he wanted to scream, though screaming only let the drowning happen faster, let the darkness inside, only to have it start all over again. The other dream? An older one, trapped in a coffin, unable to move, unable to get free, though this one at least offered a view of the outside.

At first Jason struggles against the tube, animal like, acting on terror not rational thought, smashing his elbows knees and knuckles bloody in the wild attempt to free himself. Only when his mind clears does he notice Tim.

"Of course he fucking gets the bed," Jason snarls, before struggling again this time calling out "TIM YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER WAKE UP AND LET ME OUT OF HERE!!!"

It doesn't work, Tim just lays there and Jason's still trapped. He closes his eyes then, breathing deeply and leaving little blasts of fog on the tube's window.

"Focus, you got yourself out of your fucking coffin you can get out of this." He keeps his eyes closed, imagining himself anywhere but here, anywhere but another sealed box, while he tests his surroundings, trying to move his legs, his torso, his arms and his head, one by one, then once he's done that feel along the inside of the box where he can trying to find a weakness a means of escape.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim doesn't stir-- which, if Jason has enough rational thought, might clue him in that the other batling has been drugged as well. Not even a twitch.

Inside the 'coffin', though, once Jay starts calming down and examining his environment, he will find a few things. For one, it's surprisingly comfortable for a tube, as if it was intended to be slept in, not house a body. Another is that there is actually a small, dim red light that pops on when he accidentally elbows a panel, giving him more light inside the tube without damaging his dark vision... not that he needs dark vision inside it, with the window and the light outside, but still.

There's air, in fact, the tubes seem to be bringing in ambient temperature air, nothing chilled despite the cold look of the metal. And the air itself seems almost charged somehow.

Oh, and that panel. There are buttons on it, one of which is depressed (the one he had elbowed). Two others beside it.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason blinks as the light comes on, but can guess its purpose, the comfort of the thing is ignored, there's enough anxiousness in him to make such things far from his thoughts. Though the buttons are a revelation, having success with the first he pushes the other two in quick succession.

Tim Drake has posed:
There's a hiss and the lid of the tube pops open like something out of a sci-fi movie, a hazy gas escaping as the charged air meets the regular air. It pops open and sits open, the tube itself at a slight angle, in such a way that it's clear this was intended for someone to get into and out of relatively with ease.

Jason Todd has posed:
"Son of a bitch," Jason says as the lid pops open. Feeling foolish for his bloody knees, elbows and knuckles, all but hearing Bruce in his head 'think, Jason, don't just react'.

"Yeah, well you wake up in one of these things, Bruce, and lets see how you feel," he mutters to the imagined chiding.

He steps out of the tube looking down in disgust at what he's wearing, but he reins that in looking for the mask and weapons that should go with it.

Tim Drake has posed:
There's none of that visible. A rickety, cheap card table with two folding chairs is set up on the other side of the tube, where he couldn't quite see them from within, but there's nothing on that except four bottles of water (one of those overpriced brands with the really pretty labels, but all are unopened). The armoire proves empty on exploration, as does the drawer of the nightstand. The only thing under the bed is dust.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason grabs one of the waters, uncaps it and drinks deep while he searches the rest of the room, finding nothing, he checks for a door, and if there is one checks if it's locked.

Tim Drake has posed:
Definitely locked. And heavy. And reinforced, and the pins of the hinges are either in the wall or on the other side. This is definitely not a room meant for the two to leave of their own free will.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason doesn't try to bash it down, instead he finishes his water and grabs another, cracking the top off and walking to the bed. Once he's there, he splashes some of the contents on Tim's face, "Hey, wake up," he tells him. "Or you get the whole thing next."

Tim Drake has posed:
It takes a moment, but Tim's eyes blearily crack open, very dazed looking. It looks for a little bit as if he is seeing Jason, but not really acknowledging him... clearly, he was drugged with the same stuff Jason was, only his hasn't quite worn off yet.

Then the drugged look fades, and he sits up, looking panicked. "Rose!" He looks around the room, filing away everything he can while also obviously looking for a way out. The tube gets an extra half second of a glance, as does Jason's attire, but he pushes past Jason as he rises from the bed (admittedly, staggering somewhat as the drugs still have ahold of his muscles) towards the door. His hands go into his pockets, coming up empty, and he curses. Nothing to try picking the lock with.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason lets Tim get past him to check the door, letting him sort through things on his own while Jason leans against the bed and drinks what's left of that second bottle of water wishing it was something stronger. His dreams and wake up has left him rattled but he locks that up deep inside his head with all his other trauma. He'd deal with it later.

"She's not here," he says of Rose. "Was she with you when she was taken?"

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim actually starts truly panicking now, rattling the door handle and slamming himself against the door in an attempt to force it open. "Yes--" Slam. "They--" Slam. "Killed her." Slam. Jason knows that Tim is aware that Rose isn't likely to fall to a simple wound or a bullet, so if Tim believes she's dead...

He sinks down to the floor, sitting with his back to it, his face drained of blood. He had the nightmares that Jason had had, drowning in darkness, flailing to surface. But now that he's awake, he'd rather be drowning, because all he can see is the moment the knife slammed into her heart and the light left her eye.

And the swirling darkness that rose from her blood afterward.

Jason Todd has posed:
"Bullshit," Jason says, though there's some worry in his tone. "Rose is hard to take down, no way she's dead," he says clinging to that belief out of sheer bloodyminded denial. "What happened?"

Tim Drake has posed:
"...some... ritual. They cut her up bad. Made her bleed." Tim looks haunted. "Stabbed her in the heart. She fought it until the last. Then... I don't know. Something dark. Whatever they were killing her for, it worked. Dark... tendrils. Slammed into me. I felt cold, and..." he lifts his hands up, checking his wrists. Where he had sliced them open on accident, struggling with his bonds, there was no evidence. "I felt the wounds I had taken heal over. Then they drugged me. But she..." He swallows, then closes his eyes, rubbing his face with his hands. "I saw it, Jason." When he removes his hands, his eyes are brimming with tears. His fist slams backwards, hitting the wall in anger and frustration.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason's eyes close for a moment, wishing Rose farewell. Say what you will about Tim he wasn't stupid and he knew what Rose was capable of, so if he says she's dead then she's dead. He opens them again, looking over at Tim. "Then if she's gone we'll make sure she has plenty of Owls to keep her company, she'd want it that way, then we get out of here and call her dad to add a few hundred more." If there were that many, but given how many they'd thrown at him, he wouldn't put it past them. Then almost as an after thought he adds, "I'm sorry, Tim. I know you meant a lot to her, I'm not the Rose expert, but I think she was happy." That's what people said right?

Tim Drake has posed:
"Maybe. Hope so." Tim's voice is rough, though he is mostly keeping it together. Mostly. "We have to get out of here first. Where is here?" He rises to his feet, perhaps a little shaky, taking in the room again. "Owls on the wallpaper... but it looks old." He glances down to their feet. "Wooden floor, maintained but definitely hand-planed. This room is old."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason moves to offer Tim his hand and some help up. "No clue where we are, the door is solid, haven't tried busting through the floor but if it's holding up the door and that pod," he nods to the pod across the room. "It's going to be solid. We'd need SB to break it. But given my outfit, I have a feeling they'll be coming to us in good time."

He glances back at the pod. "Woke up in that by the way, seems to be where somebody sleeps, buttons on the inside to let people out."

Tim Drake has posed:
Rising to his feet with Jason's assistance, Tim peers over towards the tube. "That's a really weird... bed?" Well, give Drake something to poke and prod at, and he can be distracted some. He moves over towards it, studying it from all angles. "None of this should work. It's got power somehow, but there's no... I don't see a battery, I don't see a plug. Can't be solar... no panels, no light in here. How the hell does this even...? And what are these tubes?" He isn't pulling anything apart, but he is checking out the entire tube inside and out systematically.

Jason Todd has posed:
"Wasn't thinking about how it got power, just how to get out," Jason says, though he does offer some helpful info. "It's getting air from somewhere too, so it's got to be connected to something."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Connected where?" Tim gestures, looking annoyed. He glances over at Jason. "I was thinking however it's getting whatever it's getting might be a way out, or indication of one. But this thing looks like it's running by sheer magic--" He frowns suddenly. That ritual. The idea that magic might be involved isn't... entirely far-fetched.

"Where's Zee when we need her?" he mutters under his breath before moving back over to the bed and sinking onto it, sitting on the edge.

Jason Todd has posed:
A disgusted expression crosses Jason's face. "Magic," he repeats. "Lovely."

He moves to a space of empty wall and sits with his back against it. "Make sense why they bought my bullshit teleporter story then," he says after a moment. "Val was there when they came for me, she got out, but told them she teleported so they wouldn't go looking for her." It was partially a lie, he wasn't sure how much time had passed, or if the Owls were listening so he didn't want them circling back to her. "But if they're down with magic, I guess they think anything's possible."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Yeah. Well." Tim scowls. Anger is good. He wants to be angry. It's more productive than the other emotion screaming in the back of his head. Anger has him wanting to //do something//. Grief would have him lay down on the bed and refuse to move. "I'd almost start taking it apart," he glances at Jason's clothing, "but I'm not sure how that.. if that might affect you? What happened to you? I'm glad you got Val out." He shudders a moment, imagining briefly if they did to her what they did to Rose. It's not as viscerally traumatizing for him as replaying Rose's death in his mind's eye over and over, but it's certainly not a pleasant thought, either.

Jason Todd has posed:
That is the thought Jason is working hard not to entertain, what they did to Rose happening to Val. "Be my guest," Jason says about taking the machine apart. "I am not going back in," he says. As for what happened. "They jumped me at the lair in the middle of the day, killed a bunch of zombie talons before they got me and dragged me down, then the ones in the smoother masks showed up and had-" he frowns as the memory comes back. "Son of a bitch," he says. "They swapped out my tooth," he says before feeling around in his mouth for the offending molar.

Tim Drake has posed:
Tim blinks at that. "They swapped out your tooth? What in the world?" He tilts his head. "For what? A tracker?" That's the only logical conclusion he can come to.

Jason Todd has posed:
"Probably," Jason says, around his fingers as he looks for the tooth. Once he thinks he's got it, he takes a breath then yanks as hard as he can.

Tim Drake has posed:
Nothing happens. Its set firmly into the jaw and only moves as much as any other healthy tooth would, which is to say, not really.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason can feel the tooth and taste it when he moves his tongue to the spot. "Fucking metal piece of shit," he growls, his anger spilling over at the intruder in his body. He clocks himself hard in the jaw, once, twice, his head rocking hard to the side each time before he checks again. Nothing.

He stands up. "Tim, going to make your dreams come true, need you to clock me in the jaw as hard as you can, right here," he says tapping his cheek next to the offending tooth.

Tim Drake has posed:
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a man's voice says from the front of the room.

Tim is on his feet, moving to a defensive stance, but frowns as the man standing there seems to be made of haze and smoke. "Some sort of projection," he notes in an undertone to Jason.

"Correct, Mr. Drake," the dark form says pleasantly. "And Mr. Todd, that tooth is worth more to you than you realize. Should at the end of all this you decide to refuse what we offer, we will gladly remove it, but until then, consider it a down-payment on that offer."

"Which is?" Tim says skeptically, glowering. "I am not particularly inclined to deal well with people who murdered my girlfriend."

Jason Todd has posed:
"Great, remove it now, because if you think I'm going to let killing Rose and wanting to do the same to Val slide, you've got the wrong fucking person, asshole," he barks at the projection. "Done your gloating now? If so, you can fuck right off."

Tim Drake has posed:
"I am not gloating, Mr. Todd. Simply stating what will happen." The projection is roughly man shaped, made of tendrils of darkness and unclear in form. There is no face. "And Mr. Drake, I am sure you will understand more thoroughly once you see that this is your birthright."

A cold feeling runs up Tim's spine. He vividly recalls the linked circle pattern in his family cemetery, the same size and design as the murder room above the bank. They had been there his whole life. Longer.

So it is with trepidation he asks, "What birthright?"

The form seems to consider them both. "Your place on the Court, of course."

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason snorts, "This is a job offer? Pro-tip fuckstick, maybe don't open with murdering the prospective recruit's girlfriend," he says then glances at his outfit. "And whatcha got for me, life as a zombie? If so we're back to fuck right off."

Tim Drake has posed:
"Hardly," the form replies. "There are talons and there are //Talons// and yes, we offer you the chance to be the latter." He chuckles. "You will understand. In time." The form looks at Tim. "As for the girl... well, it was a necessary evil. Feel content that it was not in vain--" and dark tendrils streak out from the form, knocking Tim back on the bed and wrapping around his head and eyes, beginning to force their way into his skull through his ears and mouth. "Her death makes it easier for them to speak to you. And its their offer you must hear.. not mine."

Tim struggles, screaming in horror. The tendrils are not physical, exactly, but cold and fire and wet and dry and a thousand sensations all more horrifying than the last fill his senses.

Jason Todd has posed:
"Tim," Jason leaps across the room to Tim's side trying to grasp the tendrils but to no avail. When it's clear there's no stopping this he turns defiantly to the figure. "Do what you're going to do, it won't change a goddamn thing."

Tim Drake has posed:
"I think it will. Who are you, Jason Todd? Ask yourself this question. Do you know what part you have to play in the grand puzzle of reality? Circles within circles, and here you are... given a chance to choose who you must become." He sounds rapturous. "It is beautiful. The great ones offer so few this chance to dance among the spinning circles of what is and what is not and what will be and what should never come. Be blessed, Mr. Todd. Be //blessed//."

And the tendrils shoot out again, forcing Jason back toward the open 'coffin'. They push, pull, slamming against his body all over, seeking purchase. With Tim, it was like the writhing black snakes knew exactly where to attack, but for Jason, they scrabble for purchase as they shove him back, back, until he tumbles backwards into his "bed". The lid does not snap shut but that is a small mercy as they continue their nipping and biting without physical form.

Jason Todd has posed:
Jason has no response for the figure, he knows who he is... doesn't he? Though there's no time to question before he's pushed towards the pod and stumbles backwards into it. As the tendrils nip and bite he struggles trying to rise and escape.

Tim Drake has posed:
There it is. There is a spot where in Jason's worst memories and nightmares he can still feel the crack of a crowbar, the exquisite pain of knowing he was surely about to die. Its there the tendrils find purchase and burrow in, dragging Jason into a realm of darkness and chaos.