Dreams [Midnightverse(?)]


                                            >"We know you're lying to us - why are you trying to waste our time?"

                                            >"Lying about what?"

                                            >It pains you to lay on your stomach and watch from a distance, but Anon was adamant he would handle this...

                                            >Two men stand at the counter, cornering Anon back behind it on the other side.

                                            >Both strangers are dressed in immaculate suits, though with their backs turned, you can't make anything out about them other than the identical buzzcuts they sport.

                                            >The one on the left reaches into his pocket, fishing out... something.

                                            > It's too quick, and blurry...

                                            >"Let's cut to the chase. We have this photo from a bar down the street. That's you, isn't it?" the other guy speaks up.

                                            >The small gap between the visitors allows you to see Anon's face as he studies the photo intently.

                                            >"Might be me. The lighting kind of sucks," he replies after a moment.

                                            >This is your fault.

                                            >You should have tried arguing with Anon about this.

                                            >You stick out like a sore thumb in looks and personality.

                                            >Sooner or later, someone was going to get wind of your unique looks and suspect something.

                                            >"Of course it's you. And this here is..."

                                            >The man holding the picture gestures to a particular spot of the photo.

                                            >"Why didn't you ask the bar? They were the ones that hired the entertainment," Anon responds with a calm and cool demeanor.

                                            >One of the men sighs.

                                            >"You realize being difficult is only going to make this worse for you, yes?" the other speaks up. "We have this photo, and numerous eyewitness testimonies."

                                            >"Do I get to speak to these supposed witnesses?"

                                            >"So you can intimidate them? I think not."

                                            >"That hardly seems fair. How do I know *you* aren't lying?"

                                            >The man on the right reaches down to his side in a slow, calculated manner.

                                            >"You realize harboring one of these biological experiments is a federal crime, right?"

                                            >"Oh good, here I thought you were with the EPA," Anon replies with a dab of sarcasm. "Not that I'm worried about back there, particularly the fifth row, all the way to the right. Totally not a chemical pit."

                                            >"We aren't interested in taking a gander at your junkyard, but we'll be sure to pass that information through the correct channels, Anonymous."

                                            >You can see Anon visibly deflate at that misdirection gone awry.

                                            >"Should we just bring him in?" the suit on the left asks, glancing at his partner through black sunglasses.

                                            >"I think we will get more from him here, we just need the right... technique."

                                            >In an instant, the man on the right jerks his hand up from his side, wielding an object that he uses to strike Anon across the face.

                                            >Your muscles tense as you fight the urge to leap from your hiding spot.

                                            >Anon groans as he brings a hand to his cheek, while the suit that just assaulted him straightens back up, pointing-

                                            >A gun.

                                            >"I'm done fucking around! We've tried being patient, but you're treating this serious matter as a joke!"

                                            >"It is pretty odd you two are obsessed with a pony. Can't find a girl that wants you?" Anon retorts.

                                            >Anon, why the fuck are you being-

                                            >A shot rings out, making you jump.

                                            >Anon clutches his arm in agony as he staggers back, crimson liquid beginning to already seep from underneath his grip and between his fingers.

                                            >"Another joke, perhaps? I have a few more rounds I can plug in you before you keel over."

                                            >"Or you can make it quick and put one between my eyes. Get fucked - I don't know anything."

                                            >"Makes it easy for us, we'll just bulldoze the place. One way or another, we'll eliminate what we need to."

                                            >"And if you're wrong? Are we just going to chalk this up as another Ruby Ridge?"

                                            >"I've had enough of this shit."

                                            >The man cocks his gun and aims it directly at his head.

                                            >"Go ahead, pussy."

                                            "Anon, no!"

                                            >You leap out of your junk pile in a flash, unwilling to see anything worse transpire.

                                            >But...

                                            >No one moves.

                                            >Everything seems frozen in time.

                                            >You take a step forward, proving to yourself everything is... normal?

                                            >At least for you.

                                            >Did...

                                            >Do you have special powers over time or something?

                                            >"While I am glad I was able to step in before any further events, I must apologize for allowing this to go on as long as it has."

                                            >A foreign voice echoes from above, as if from the heavens themselves.

                                            >You shift your gaze around with unease - though the ceiling is... well, right there above you.

                                            "...what?"

                                            >One by one, both the men in the suits and Anon dissolve away into dust, blown away without a sound by a light breeze.

                                            >Your eyes remain focused on the area around the counter by this oddity as new form steps up behind the counter, rearing up and resting her hooves upon the dingy countertop.

                                            >The stained linoleum stands as a stark contrast to the shimmering silver slippers the newest arrival sports - as well as the immaculate navy blue coat and ethereal mane.

                                            >Her turquoise eyes widen with surprise as she takes stock of you, seemingly for the first time.

                                            >Though you know her all too well.

                                            "This is what I get for Anon and I getting bored enough to watch your episodes the other night," you groan, rolling your eyes as you bring a hoof to your head. "At least this is a fruity dream now with Princess Luna rather than... whatever that was."

                                            >"Y-yes. You are dreaming. I must say I am questioning myself at the moment," Princess Luna murmurs.

                                            "Right..."

                                            >You can only stare in a bit of disbelief, while Luna seems to be doing the same, at least initially.

                                            >At some point in this little standoff, she relaxes, looking... beyond you.

                                            "Am... should I be controlling this dream? Waking up?" you ask no one in particular. "What the hell is going on?"

                                            >"My apologies while I... understand this," Luna speaks up in a soft voice. "Tell me, what is your name?"

                                            >Seriously?

                                            "Anon is gonna have fun with this if I start mumbling in my sleep again..."

                                            >"Pardon?"

                                            >May as well go along with the charade your head is spinning up at the moment.

                                            "Midnight."

                                            >Luna beckons for you to step up to the counter, where a bar stool suddenly appears.

                                            >Seeing no other recourse, you close the short distance between you and her and take a seat.

                                            >She continues to study you in silence.

                                            "So... what are we doing here? Giving me advice on what that nightmare was about?"

                                            >"I am gathering what I need..."

                                            >As she speaks, her eyes begin to glow.

                                            >Barely noticeable at first, but before long, her eyes are lost in a blinding white light.

                                            >Behind her, the back wall begins to move, growing nearer to her back, while the ancient dusty shelves begin to multiply and shift.

                                            >As the worn wood slowly begins to obtain a luster of fresh varnish, bottles begin to appear, slowly filling the voids.

                                            >As it begins to look like a bar, you note how the various bottles of shapes, sizes, and colors lack any sort of labels, though they all seem to contain...

                                            >Something.

                                            >Whatever liquid inside them all seems to move.

                                            >"Stars above..." she says after a spell, the light dissipating.

                                            >At this point, even the counter before you which Luna leans upon has changed into a well-cared bar top.

                                            "You never did any of this in the show. You always just know others."

                                            >"Right... things are a little different in reality," she replies, turning away toward the wall.

                                            "Reality. You wanna try that again?"

                                            >"I mean to say how you are... imagining me. In your mind, your dream," she corrects.

                                            >Her magic begins to pull a few bottles off of the shelves with meticulous care, looking for certain liqueurs.

                                            "Ah, I had alcohol last night before bed, didn't I? This is why everything seems so fucked up."

                                            >"More than likely, yes. Alcohol can lead to some curious results in the dream realm," Luna agrees with a sharp abruptness.

                                            >Whatever.

                                            >Just go with it, Mid.

                                            >As Luna turns around, she suddenly sports a white button-up dress shirt that cuts off down near the end of her rib cage, accented by a charcoal grey vest left open to reveal a red tie.

                                            >You eye her with a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

                                            >"I may as well complete the look, no?" she says with a giggle.

                                            "I would have expected something more... frilly. Girly."

                                            >"It's your dream. Is that what you want?"

                                            "Nevermind. I don't want to be sending the wrong signals here."

                                            >This is confusing as hell.

                                            >Aided by magic from Luna, a few bottles set themselves before you on the counter.

                                            >"You have been through a lot, Midnight. Far more than I expected to see."

                                            "And you expected to see what, exactly?"

                                            >Rather than answer, Luna taps one of the bottles to direct your attention.

                                            >Through the glass, you now see the movement earlier wasn't sloshing liquid...

                                            >They're memories.

                                            >Your memories.

                                            >You see the lab where you were kept - and tear yourself away almost instantly as you start to spy the beginnings of some of the 'tests' and 'experiments.'

                                            >A chill runs down your spine, unable to keep from picturing some of the more painful moments.

                                            >"You fought through that, you overcame those odds, and even though further trials lay ahead..."

                                            >Another instance of hoof upon glass draws your attention to the next bottle.

                                            >You watch in wonder at your first memories of the junkyard, making a home for yourself while figuring out how to keep yourself alive.

                                            >Reading through books, learning what the hell the outside world was about and how you could find a way to fit in.

                                            >"You are a fighter, Midnight," Luna speaks in an encouraging tone. "You haven't let the odds dissuade you at any moment."

                                            >Anon's face appears in the memory.

                                            >The first day you came face to face with him.

                                            >Man, that was risky.

                                            >And you watch as some of your many arguments and standoffs flash by.

                                            >"But look what has become of everything you have fought through and every risk you have taken, Midnight," Luna cheers, pointing to the last bottle of the counter.

                                            >You watch as you see the days of bringing the junkyard back to solvency, your interactions with Anon become more amicable, friendly, even.

                                            >And beyond.

                                            >You also spy Starla, Teddy, and some of the various trips and excursions you've been on, with Anon by your side.

                                            >As nice as it is to take a jaunt through memory lane, you haven't the foggiest of what Luna is trying to get at.

                                            "Neat, I guess," you say, trying to play it cool and not completely lost in the plot.

                                            >"Indeed. But through everything you have worked through, and laying the past to rest, you still hold a great fear in your heart," Luna replies, her voice growing colder.

                                            >The first and last bottles in the lineup levitate, pitching themselves over into a stainless drink shaker that manifests just before the liquids hit the bar top.

                                            >"I understand your worries - of the past and present converging," Luna continues as the bottles disappear, leaving the mixer to begin shaking at a feverish pitch. "You've moved on and laid your ire to rest, but you can't let go of what unholy concoction could come from moving on."

                                            >As she finishes, the shaker stops, dropping to the counter and tipping over, the lid popping off.

                                            > Pitch-black ichor spreads across the varnished wood, painting unspeakable pictures of outcomes befalling those who you love and care about.

                                            >Thoughts and dreams you've had before.

                                            >Because in the end - you're still a fugitive.

                                            >As much as you've enjoyed going out beyond the gates of the junkyard - despite your initial reluctance, of course - being seen in public is a chance to be caught.

                                            >It's always been in the back of your mind...

                                            >You squeeze your eyes shut, eager to avoid the images in the growing puddle in front of you as your heart races.

                                            "And what if it does happen? What if these things come true?" you demand.

                                            >Your breath catches in your throat.

                                            >Fear grips you as those images fight through the darkness, beginning to manifest in your head.

                                            "How do I live with myself - if I'm even unfortunate enough to still be living?!"

                                            >The overwhelming headrush leaves you feeling tipsy and off-balance.

                                            > But a gentle touch upon your foreleg pulls you away before those thoughts can play out or throw you into the void.

                                            >Opening your eyes, Luna rests her barrel across the bar and the black stain upon it to reach out to you, her leg grasping yours.

                                            > It's only now you realize you've begun to slip off of your seat.

                                            >"Indeed. 'What if' is exactly as it sounds," Luna answers, barely above a whisper.

                                            >With her aid as she leans back, you pull yourself back onto your stool properly.

                                            >"What if you had failed to escape? What if your first run-in with Anonymous had gone awry? What if Teddy had turned out not to be so friendly?"

                                            "Well... at the time I didn't have anything to really lose," you mumble in response. "Or didn't realize what I had. But now that - where I am now is different. You know? I'm putting people I give a damn about in danger."

                                            >Luna gives a slight nod, but doesn't seem particularly moved by your argument.

                                            >Once again, she turns her back to focus on the shelves stocked with alcohol.

                                            >Eventually, she picks out three more bottles from the display.

                                            >As they gently set down upon the black-puddled bar top, you note these three are labeled.

                                            >The first - a green bottle, has Anon's face plastered upon it.

                                            >The second - amber-colored, sports Starla with her welcoming smile.

                                            >Curious, Luna turns it back around to take a gander again.

                                            >"Well, there are certainly some strange parallels..." she muses, before setting it back down along with the last bottle.

                                            >A clear bottle, brandished with Teddy's face.

                                            >"All three of these know your background and what being around you entails. Even in your darkest moments, they have been beside you. Yet looking through your memories, I don't see an ounce of regret or uncertainty from them being with you. 'What if' does not cross their mind - or if it does, they don't allow it to sway them away from you."

                                            >As Luna speaks to you, the bottles seem to suck up and evaporate the liquid on the counter until the immaculate surface shines through once again.

                                            "Maybe..."

                                            >"My point being is you can't let what-ifs stop you from moving forward. You've come so far, Midnight. There's no telling what heights you can reach. There will always be a what if, and while it is perfectly normal to have reservations - healthy, if I may add - you can't let them consume your life and how you live it."

                                            "Thanks, I guess. I didn't really think it was bothering me, but... I feel better. Lighter in a sense," you comment.

                                            >It really does feel like things are just...

                                            >Brighter.

                                            >This has been one fucked up dream, but you can't deny it all clicks, at least from a Luna lesson standpoint.

                                            >"As much as I would love to stay and have a more vested discussion, I am afraid my time here is up," Luna says, sounding a bit forlorn as she taps her hoof on the counter.

                                            >In the blink of an eye, the garage appears as it always has, the back wall the normal distance and plain brick and mortar.

                                            >Luna sports her usual regalia as well, though her visage is graced with a beaming smile.

                                            >"Take care of yourself Midnight. It's good to see what's become of you is positive," she says, opening her wings.

                                            >That last sentence strikes you as... off - even if this is a dream.

                                            "Wait, what does that mean?"

                                            >You don't get an answer before the blaring sound of an alarm jolts you away.

                                            >Sure enough, cracking open your eyes shows you in bed, Anon beside you.

                                            >He's still sound asleep despite the godawful racket of the alarm on his side of the bed, on the table.

                                            >You poke him with your hoof.

                                            "It's for you."

                                            >"Tell em to call back then," he mumbles.

                                            "I'll throw the alarm if you don't get it."

                                            >Anon groans as he rolls over.

                                            >"I'd call your bluff, but I don't want to risk having to do drywall."

                                            "I never said where I'd throw it."

                                            >The alarm cuts off before Anon rolls back over to face you.

                                            >"You already look like you're up and raring to go. Scare you out of a deep sleep?" he quips.

                                            "Eh, weird dreams. Shouldn't have tapped the bottle before bed last night, I guess," you dismiss him.

                                            >Instead, you get a queer expression from Anon before he rubs his eyes.

                                            "The hell was that look for?"

                                            >"Unless you got a secret stash of booze somewhere, we don't have any. I killed the last bit of rum two days ago."

                                            "Oh..."

                                            >Well shit.

                                            >Apparently you just had a really, really weird imagination overnight.

                                            >"You okay?"

                                            "Yeah, why?"

                                            >"You just look bewildered."

                                            >Well now that you uttered such a big word first thing in the morning, I am," you gasp.

                                            >"Ha, funny," he sasses, sitting up. "Seriously though, you wanna talk about your dream?"

                                            >You briefly consider it but...

                                            >Where to even begin?

                                            >At the end of it all, you feel like something in your head has clicked.

                                            >Through the rises and falls, you feel sorted out.

                                            >Renewed.

                                            >And left wondering about some of those words and dismissals your dream with Luna had to share...

                                            >But, those are best left to sort out another time.

                                            "Nah, don't worry about it."