Storm (relatively speaking) One

[quark_assassin]

WHO: Dustin and anyone
WHERE: Temba, various locations
WHAT: Dustin's first storm and he's having a Bad Time
WHEN: During the storm (October)
WARNINGS: Dustin's standard warnings, second prompt will have some medical gross, will edit with anything else as needed

1. Suddenly No Powers | OTA

For as many questions he's asked and poking around on the network he's done, Dustin still does not anticipate the storm. He'd been expecting something a little more...dramatic. Roiling black clouds and gusting winds, electrical storms, perhaps. Instead there's just overcast skies - the sort that he's familiar with seeing back home that come in during early fall and stay until mid-spring, bringing the cold with them. It feels normal.

Until, suddenly, he wakes up in the breakroom of his shop, unfurls himself from his nest of blankets and jackets, and sees the fog seeping through the cracks in the door and windows like soup through a broken bowl. It's so thick outside that the whole Temba landscape is obscured. Everything, except the distinctive silhouette of Rose Thatcher, peering in at him through the window.

Dustin's brain stutters for a few moments. Logically this doesn't make any sense and he knows it. But that ends up being a secondary thought; what he remembers instead is how he never told Rose about how he stole her research, never said he was leaving. She came home late from work that night and he pretended to be asleep. What was the last thing he even said to her?

He doesn't remember.

That realization hits him late, and by that point Dustin's already rushed out of the building and deep into the fog, chasing Rose's shadow down the pavement uneven from weathering and dead plants. He jogs to a stop. The back of Rose's head disappears into the storm miasma ahead.

"Rose? Mom?" Panic creeps into his voice; at this point Dustin knows that she's an illusion, but he can't help feeling like he needs to find her anyway. There's unfinished business, and also, he feels...very lost. Literally lost. There aren't any visible landmarks and he's not sure how long he's been running.

He can't remember.

The recognition that his powers are gone hits him like a ton of bricks. Dustin's head turns on a swivel. If I can just get a good landmark, I can determine my location and retrace my steps, then find the Hangar and--

But the fog is too thick, his memories of the map are too vague, and he can't remember what direction he came from to get here. Panic intensifies and his brain shuts off completely. Dustin picks a direction and runs, nearly slamming head-first into the building he finds, but any relief at seeing something solid is drowned by the fact that he can't tell what building it is. It's old and ruined, just like all the others. He circles it to the next building - same result. Desperate, Dustin reaches for his tablet that should be in his satchel - only to remember that he left it, and several layers of coats, back in his shop that he can't find. Now that he's not running, it's getting awfully cold out here.

Panic gives way to frustration. "Useless!" Dustin howls into the fog, feeling his face grow hot with rage and flustered tears. "Fucking useless!"

Then he spins on his heel, stomps into the closest building he's found and, exhausted from anger and chilled to the bone, slumps into a heap against the back wall.

2. Suddenly Too Much Powers (CW: brain injury) | OTA

It's a minor relief when Dustin wakes back up in the middle of the night and finds Temba looking relatively clear. He can even see stars outside through the window. Perhaps the storm has passed already? Wouldn't that be nice?

Well, no - his memory is still annoyingly fuzzy and the fog persists, albeit thinned to the point where Dustin's feeling a little more confident about finding a safer, hopefully warmer place to stay. The 'Welcome Center,' perhaps? Lauri-Ell had mentioned that it tends to stay untouched from storms. At least he remembers that much.

Stepping out of the ruined doorway, Dustin can't help but note how bright the night sky is. Must be a full moon. He glances up to check.

That...sure is a full moon. With a face. And a mouth, opening up to a scream.

Yet another one of those things Dustin had been warned about and not nearly prepared enough for. The moon's scream rattles him to the bone, bad enough that he can't even cover his ears. He grits his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against the noise, waiting for it to pass and his ears to stop ringing, which thankfully it does after a minute or so. Dustin blinks his eyes open.

Wish Keith had given me a little more detail on that, he thinks ruefully. Maybe he did, and I just can't--wait a fucking second, I can!

Sure enough, the memory is right there waiting for him in perfect precision. Dustin can't help grinning as his eyes flicker, greedily going through everything he's wanted to recall over the last thirty hours. Temba map--perfect! I'm not too far from the Greenhouse. Just follow the street here, and...

A couple blissful minutes of skipping down the road pass before Dustin starts to realize something is wrong.

It starts with a headache, sharp like a spike directly through the center of his forehead. The pain stops him dead in his tracks. Then, shortly after, a powerful wave of nausea riding with it.

Oh fuck.

Dozens of possibilities for what could be happening flicker through his mind at once, some of them reasonable, most of them confused nonsense. He tastes blood. Smells blood? Or is that copper, like the metal, or the color? Dustin isn't sure when he vomits, but he does, staggering away on an instinct for somewhere to curl up and hide until the pain goes away.

He makes it only a few feet before his feet go out from underneath him and he collapses, has a quick but violent seizure, and goes still.

3. Suddenly Shades | OTA

Dustin doesn't go outside at night after that. But he does still need to travel for food and supplies from the Hangar, which means he has to brave the storm at least a few more times before it passes. Considering his options, the wandering shadows of his adopted mother and his average memory are a perfectly acceptable tradeoff to almost dying in the middle of the road somewhere.

Except, Dustin doesn't factor in the fact that the storm has more tricks up its sleeve after the first day.

The visions find him. One minute he's pawing his way along the side of an old building, waiting for the turn in the road he expects to find soon (based on the crude Temba street map drawn on his forearm that he frequently references), the next minute a shock of crimson lightning strikes the fog and it coalesces rapidly into the swirling, hulking figure of a monster. It's easily nine feet tall in spite of the fact that it's arched forward to loom over Dustin's head, and mostly formless except for the vaguely humanoid features of a head, two spindly arms, and several pairs of beady, glowing eyes in places they shouldn't be.

Then it slips into the ground, disappearing into Dustin's shadow.

His feet are locked in place. The fear is so powerful that he doesn't even notice the rest of the fog billowing into other shapes: The outlines of an abandoned house, overturned furniture, a broken staircase leading to a collapsed upper floor. Dustin might remember it from a rerun of his favorite show growing up if he wasn't so fucking scared.

The glowing eyes of the Shade peer up at his back, waiting for him to move.

Comments

3. More like Suddenly Gladio

[ziedrich_bearer]

Not being able to see much past the end of your nose, with things out there wanting to kill you, wasn't exactly something new for Gladio. He'd lived there for almost ten years in the Long Dark. Usually the things coming out of the darkness, though, was daemons.

Not to mention he normally had a sword. Which was why Gladio had gone out into the streets. His hope had been to find something to serve as a weapon, seeing as he couldn't call for his blade in the Arminger what with the storm running. So instead he had gone to find something, in case he needed to head out with Noctis later.

All he'd found so far was a serious length of metal bar, perhaps once from a sign, that he had hefted over his shoulder as he moved through the dark. At least he'd learned not to trust the flickers of memory out there in the form of his sibling and Ignis and Prompto. They weren't here, he had to remind himself.

But seeing Dustin there, seemingly frozen? That he knew was real and here.

"Kid!" he shouted as he moved closer. He'd been lucky to even get a glimpse of him.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin doesn't turn to look and see who's shouting at him. He recognizes the voice, so he should know, and yet the memory is fuzzy like so many others. Another face and name casually scrolled over that he took for granted.

Now he's here, and as far as Dustin is concerned, that means he's about to die with him.

"Don't!" The words come out in spite of the lump in his throat and the sheer terror locking every other muscle in his body. On the ground, the eyes of the Shade blink in slow sequence. Dustin can't see them but he knows, instinctively, that they're watching him. "Stay back! If your shadow touches mine, it'll jump to yours."

[ziedrich_bearer]

Well that's new. Gladio does stay a few steps back, and he frowns.

"Okay. Seems like you know the daemon or whatever. So how do I kill it?"

Because clearly he intends to kill it. That's just what a guy like him does.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin's right there with him - with one problem.

"I-I dunno," he stammers. An odd tingling settles in over his fingers and toes, like they're all going numb simultaneously, at around the same time that smoky black tendrils start wrapping around his legs from his blinking shadow. Dustin breaks into a sweat. "I mean--I think I remember how it happens in the show, but--but I don't think it's right."

[ziedrich_bearer]

"Explain the show," Gladio insists, because man, if it's all they've got, they are going ot fucking work with it, okay? That's the only choice they have. The only one they are going to get.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin doesn't answer that question immediately; he's too busy being mortified by the idea of explaining his favorite childhood show to someone else, regardless of the fact that he's about to have his soul ripped out by one of the primary antagonists. His face down to his neck flushes bright red.

"Um, uh--" Dustin squeezes his eyes shut as he furiously tries to work through a concise description, while also pushing away his embarrassment and the ominous tickling sensation at the back of his head. "--Jacob Silver, Paranormal Investigator. Ghost-hunting show that focused on tracking down Shades. A hunt would always end in uh--in a banishing, kind of. An exorcism?"

2.

[crystalmaster]

Radley has taken to trying to make sure everyone's in shelter during the storm. He doesn't have powers himself, so in that way he's safe from the full moon, but it does put him at risk for being the victim of others' powers going berserk. He doesn't like that at all, and he's calling it a night and heading back when he finds Dustin laying there.

He frowns, carefully going over. "Hey! Can you hear me?" He kneels down, trying to examine Dustin for injuries.

[quark_assassin]

There's no immediate response; Dustin appears to be unconscious when Radley approaches. He has no visible injuries, but blood runs freely from his nose and is spattered around his ears, alongside...something else. A sort of opaque, blue-tinted fluid, mixed with his blood in equal measure. Whatever it is, it's obviously not something that would normally be found in a human person or, as is currently the case, coming out of one.

Dustin doesn't regain consciousness until some seconds after Radley calls for him. He rouses slowly and blearily, and his breathing picks up in erratic gasps. The first thing he becomes fully aware of is the thick taste of blood from a bitten tongue.

"Hnng...what?"

[crystalmaster]

Radley stares in shock, not sure how to react to this. What is it?!

He starts when Dustin stirs. "Hey, you're pretty bad off. I need to get you someplace where there's help."

He reaches to carefully try to ease Dustin up.

[quark_assassin]

The next thing Dustin becomes aware of is how much pain he's in. The sound of Radley's voice is like sandpaper directly on his brain, bad enough to make his vision go spotty with flashes of color. A dozen questions clutter his thoughts: What happened? Where is he? What's Radley doing here? Is he hurt? How long as he been unconscious? Can he move his arms--his legs? So on and so forth, a continuous churning that receives no answers, until the feeling of a hand touching his side rocks him out of the cycle like an electric shock.

"No," Dustin whimpers, flinching away. Every physical sensation is agony. Even the vibrations of his own voice echo through his jaw and rattle his already throbbing temples. "Hurts. Don't wanna."

[crystalmaster]

"You can't just stay here," Radley said. "Where does it hurt? What happened?" He hesitated. "What's this blue stuff?" He doesn't like making Dustin talk, but this is so unusual he probably needs to know in order to be properly informed to help.

He gets out his communicator. Maybe he'll have to try to get someone else to come here to help move Dustin.

2

[knightlyperformance]

The hell is with that ugly moon? It's enough to make Khonshu look enticing, and that's saying something. But Khonshu's not here, and neither are Marc's powers, which may be a strange blessing, the consequences of which he is blissfully ignorant of as nothing manifests with the horrible thing's scream. But it is really unnerving. Compared to seeing people who had no right being here, Marc would choose the creepy screaming moon any day. Or night. Still, it's not something he trusts. He's not sure what all he can trust now that things have gotten decidedly weird.

Which is why he hesitates when he sees someone collapsing a ways ahead of him. It's not for very long as instinct kicks in, and he runs the rest of the way over to where the kid lies. He knows him. Sure, it hadn't been a very friendly encounter but it wasn't enough for Marc to have any strong opinions against the teenager. He'd seen that jolt of his body and although he's not sure what caused it (oh, but he can guess), he knows he's not just going to leave Dustin lying there.

"Kid- hey..!" he says even as he drops to a knee beside him, pausing before he carefully rolls Dustin onto his side, adjusting his limbs. He waits anxiously, throwing a glare up at the moon.

[quark_assassin]

It's a long few moments before the trembling stops, and a few more after that before Dustin shows any signs of regaining consciousness. All the while an odd fluid dribbles from his nose, some combination of blood and a viscous, blue-tinted liquid that has no right being there. Dustin isn't aware of it; when he comes to, all of his senses are scrambled and firing off at once, like a confused fireworks show where all of the fuses have been swapped. A combination of dark rings and bright spots of light blind him, yet he can see Marc in his mind's eye through the fact that he's grabbing his arms. It's all tremendously disorienting.

It's also horrifyingly painful. Dustin shudders and groans, making a half-hearted attempt at wiggling out of Marc's grasp before the agony of every nerve firing at once forces him to stop, face locked in a rictus of pain as he curls into a tight ball on his side.

[knightlyperformance]

...that can't be right. While Marc's relieved the seizures seem to have ceased, he's not sure what to think about whatever else is leaking out of the poor kid's nose.

And then suddenly he starts to move, and the pained reaction has Marc immediately releasing Dustin as soon as the other starts trying to strain against him. "Hey, hey, hey-" he starts, hands up and out as he sits back on his feet. "It's fine, you're fine-" Is he? Marc suppresses a grimace. "Easy..." he says a little softer.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin does not look fine. It's true that some of the overwhelming pressure against his temples and in his sinuses is starting to ease up, but that horrible headache remains, sharp and directly between his eyes. His breath hitches and he coughs, spattering blood from a bitten tongue onto the pavement.

"Who...?" Marc is familiar and Dustin remembers their conversations - both at the same time and all at once, the memories playing out in a confused kaleidoscope of movement and colors. But is this Marc, or Steven? The memories loop as his brain furiously analyzes each for patterns of behavior, setting clues, time and date. Could he ask him riddles? Maybe he's neither and this is actually a fog construct here to kill him.

This is not helpful, and also doesn't lead to anything aside from making his headache worse and giving him an acute sense of vertigo.

[knightlyperformance]

The man doesn't speak with a heavy accent, just the slightly clipped words of a Chicagoan. His tone's heavier than Steven's, his face set more tightly than the other's more relaxed, malleable one. Not that such details probably help in the wake of a screaming moon, but at least it's ceased to do so. Marc remains blissfully ignorant as to just what it's sparked.

For a moment he looks lost as he's not sure what else he's supposed to do. The blood can't be good, but at least Dustin's aware of him now. He pauses, clearly hesitant before he pushes ahead. "It's Marc. Come on, it's not safe lying around out here." Not when you see people who aren't here. Not when things come out for you.

"I'm going to sit you up, okay? We'll start slow, see if you can handle bein' on your feet after."

2

[tempredmental]

"Hey... hey, Dustin..."

Keith crouched down next to him on the ground.

"C'mon..." He gave a very gentle shake. He wanted to try to wake him, but not injure him. "We need to get you inside somewhere."

[quark_assassin]

By the time Keith finds him, Dustin has been lying semi-conscious on the ground for a minute or so. The feeling of cool pavement against his cheek contrasts sharply with the heat of the puddle his face is sitting in, a mixture of his blood and goopy Element-tinged liquid trickling from his nose, and it's pretty much the only thing he has the bandwidth to focus on currently. Everything else is simply too much. Even opening his eyes had been a lesson in overstimulation and pain. So he resolved to keep them closed, tried not to think about anything, and waited quietly for his brain to stop hurting.

The shake rocks him out of that trance instantly. "Hhh--what?" Dustin's eyes snap open instinctively and he regrets it. They're unfocused and his pupils are barely dilated, yet his vision is struck with spots of light that pulse in time with the throbbing of his head, itself in time with the shocks of pain through the arm Keith is rubbing. He squeezes his eyes shut again with a grimace. "Argh...stop. Gettoff."

[tempredmental]

Yeah, whatever that was? Pretty gross... and Keith wasn't getting too close.

"Alright, alright." He pulled back. "But..." Okay, the blood was one thing, but... that other stuff? "I don't know... you're like... bleeding... leaking. Just... I'm taking you to the hospital. Come on."

And Keith was going to try again to just gingerly shift Dustin. He'd carry him if he had to... even with the weird goopy gross stuff all over the place.

[quark_assassin]

That's enough to get him to power through the migraine. Dustin blinks owlishly at Keith as he moves overhead.

"Leak--?" Then he's moving, and no matter how gentle Keith is about shifting Dustin around, it is a deeply unpleasant experience. He snarls and tenses up in spite of the fact that his limbs feel like putty. Electric, agonizing putty. "No. Hurts. Wanna...sleep."

[tempredmental]

"You can't just take a nap in a puddle of... fluid... in the middle of the street. You need help."

Keith frowned.

"I'm sorry for hurting you, but we need to get you to somewhere else."

3

[nightmare_scientist]

"Who's your friend?" Because Dustin doesn't already have enough problems, a certain scientist's voice promises to only add to them. And it is, indeed, Wilson that steps out of the fog, entirely on foot for a change and seemingly armed with a crudely constructed spear.

Though that's not the only thing amiss here. Wilson has changed his usual deep black suit for a bright red pinstripe waistcoat, shed himself off the claws that usually take the place of his fingers and apparently has opted for regular human teeth along with actual hair for once. His expression, however, is just as dubiously bemused as ever as he peers down at the glowing eyes occupying Dustin's shadow.

[quark_assassin]

Dustin's memory has been annoyingly spotty due to his lack of powers, to the point where he's forgotten names, simple directions, even sequences of events - things he's taken for granted his entire remembered life. Everything about Wilson, however, is crystal clear. How could Dustin possibly forget someone that's caused him so much grief in the little time he's been on this stupid planet? Even off-world Wilson's managed to be a thorn in his side. The spark of fury caused from hearing his voice alone is enough to get the memories flooding in, and does an excellent job of splitting Dustin's focus from the interloper in his shadow.

"Fuck's sake Wilson," he hisses through gritted teeth. Dustin twists his head a fraction to catch sight of the scientist walking up to him, but he still keeps his feet planted and the rest of him mostly still. Much like the shadows of people they know appearing in the fog, it's Dustin's understanding that Shades get a lot of their power from terrorizing people in subtle ways, such as tangling their feet when they try to run. Therefore, his instincts tell him to stay put. "Really isn't the fucking time!"

The eyes in Dustin's shadow stare back up at Wilson. If he's gotten close enough to let his shadow intercept, they'll blink once, then disappear into his.

[nightmare_scientist]

"Isn't it?" Wilson asks testily while peering up at Dustin from where he has crouched down near the younger man's shadow, about ready to poke a finger at the eyes within it.

Wilson's tone turns teasingly accusative. "You just don't want to share." And with those words he moves to poke the eyes for good, more than offering them the opportunity to switch over.

[quark_assassin]

"I'm not kidding," Dustin says, and for once his tone towards Wilson is something other than raw anger - it's fear. His voice is quiet and faltering, hands clenching and unclenching with agitation at his sides. "You're getting too close. It'll jump to you if--"

He turns slightly more to look further behind him.

"--You already did." Dustin's shoulders slump in defeat. The eye Wilson has moved to poke suddenly disappears, along with the others. "Where'd it go? Do you see it?"