Per 
Unsorted Tales
For tales that aren't attached to any series that I am writing. Tales attached to specific series may be found below.
Unnamed tale, Competitive Eschatology
Takes place far after the rest of the canon, in a desolate wasteland heavily implied to be what is left after all the various world enders and humanity have warred it out. All that is left is two universal, primordial entities that represent life and death. Death is hunting Life, who is desperately protecting what she believes to be the last living thing, a small seed. It ends with both of them dying, and allowing their bodies to act as sustenance for the seed. What happens next is up to the reader.
MC&D v. Hell
Marshall Carter and Dark, in their endless quest for power, have secured a portal to hell. They are now using its endless fires for energy. Cue frigid corporate interaction with Lucifer himself which threatens to break out into a total war on Earth. But MC&D aren’t really worried.
Tales from the Ranch
A series of short stories all focused on a particular hub of anomalous activity in the Great Plains of America, inspired by the stories of Skinwalker Ranch. The place has always been mysterious, once requiring the alliance of all sorts of occult groups to seal away, until the unending hunger of modern society led to it being discovered once again.
Dread and Circuses
This is just what I had on DrChandra's D&C collab box while I was working with them on Road Trip.
Characters:
Age: Unknown, low hundreds. Despite this, her appearance is deceptively young.
Race: South Asian (born in India, much like her namesake.)
Abilities: Magic-based ocular implants, allowing her a variety of low-level magical abilities. On the Nautilus, they allow her to perceive and understand her surroundings, even when they are heading at top speed, allowing her to angle and steer the ship as required. Other abilities include 'aura' vision1.
Backstory: Born in India and deserted by her family, she became a crew member of a ship at an early age. After taking charge during an emergency and saving the lives of the crew after the then-Captain had deserted, she became the captain of that ship, which she subsequently dubbed the Maharani. After an ambiguous period of time, she discovered a Way into the Library, and used it for her own interpretation of 'good'. She acted as a Robin Hood-like pirate, robbing ships from the British Empire and redistributing the wealth to the poor in India.
Over time, she suffered from motive decay and began to spend less time in the Foundationverse, and more time in the Library. Under bad terms, she left her original crew to explore the Library, joining a moderate sect of the Serpent's Hand. After gaining quite the impressive knowledge of Ways and worlds, she was contacted by Herman Fuller, who struck a bargain with her. She would act as an agent for him, to travel to different worlds and collect exotic flora and fauna for him to use as attractions in his circus.
In return, Herman pulled a few strings, allowing her to steal a ship that was capable of traveling through the Not. A few members of the Serpent's Hand, as well as a band that she had accrued over time, joined her as the crew of the newly christened Nautilus. The Serpent's Hand has mixed feelings about her. The radicals among them consider her a traitor and an enemy, but most of the moderates have little or no enmity towards her.
Presence in the canon: The dealer mentioned in 3718. Makes an appearance in [Name TBD, working name 'Road Trip'].
Related Characters: Munin, Herman Fuller, Lord Blackwood.
Trivia: Once worked with Lord Blackwood in delivering supplies to the refugees of Kul-Manas. Had somewhat of a rocky relationship with Fuller towards the end of her contracts with him, mostly due to a certain environmental cat-astrophy.
Age: Unknown (Likely as old or slightly younger than Nemo)
Abilities: One magic-based ocular implant, allowing him to remain conscious while traveling through the Not. Also gives him other low-level magic abilities in the same vein as Nemo. Also practices a nonspecific school of Magic, and is well versed in the esoteric arts. Abilities falling under this category include shapeshifting into smaller creatures (Snakes and Ravens seem to be the most common), summoning to a certain degree (given the right materials, could create a magic circle used to commune with and speak to otherworldly entities), and other low-tier abilities. He is on no way as skilled as someone such as Iris Dark.
Name Meaning: Munin (out of universe) is named after one of the ravens of Odin, specifically the one whose name meant 'memory' or 'mind'. The duty of these ravens were to act as the eyes of Odin, and fly around the world gaining information to report back to him. This mirror's Munin's duty to Captain Nemo. As another connection to Odin, Munin only has one of his eyes, the other having been replaced with a magical implant.
Backstory: Was an agent of the Serpent's Hand for quite a long time, and fell under what many would consider to be the more extreme end, leading raids on the GOC, MC&D, and the SCP Foundation. However, as time went on, he became more reclusive in the Library, content to merely study the knowledge and magic he could find there. However, that doesn't pay bills, so he eventually found his way onto the Nautilus, as one of Nemo's new crew.
For Nemo, he acts as an ambassador to the members of the Library who hold her in an ill regard, as well as acting as her eyes and ears on the world while she and the rest of the crew are away on jobs.
Presence in the canon: [Name TBD, working name Road Trip]
Related Characters: Captain Nemo
Trivia: Presumably has a counterpart named 'Hugin'. The pair are actually plucked from another article that I wrote, Mr. Doggo. Was created to be more of a 'comically serious' type character, in comparison to other characters such as Victor or Iris.
A businessman and somewhat rival to Marshall, Carter, and Dark. He's very rich and has been around for a long time, and has an odd habit of wearing reptile-skin suits, and his eyes are very unnerving. Surprise! He's actually a Dragon! Specifically a Slavic style dragon, or Zmey, who are described in myths as able to shapeshift into a human(oid) form.
He's wicked cunning and his ruthless business practices can sometimes put even the soulless MCD cronies to shame. He's a firm believer in the 'you have outlived your usefullness' trope, and often eats people as punishment for their failures. He's greedy and lustful as any slimy businessman/dragon would be. His big weaknesses are of course just how lustful and greedy he is, as his only goal in life is to expand his treasure hoard by any means necessary.
Locations:
An enchanted ship capable of traveling through a surface layer of the Not. Originally created by an ancient member of the Serpent's Hand for use in one of the Occult Wars (possibly even the first). After being abandoned, it was taken into the possession of a race of beings who live in the shallows of the Not, and held as a great treasure. It was then stolen by Captain Nemo, with the assistance of her newly formed crew, with a small degree of help from Herman Fuller.
The Nautilus is massive, and is capable of transporting the entire circus in its lower deck through use of pocket dimensions. For added space, vast amounts of equipment, or even crew members, can be stored in devices styled after conch shells. When blown, a portal will open, allowing the equipment to be retrieved, or the contained persons to leave.
Note: If you want help visualizing it, the design I had in mind when writing the tale was the Lor Starcutter from Kirby's Return to Dreamland. Just think of a less cartoony, emerald green version of that, and you've got a pretty good idea.
A coffee shop within the Wanderer's Library, run by eldritch beings. The coffee there can contain knowledge in liquid form. If you drink too much, you might die ala Kingdom of the Crystal Skull. Their drinks only have one size, but the cups are non-euclidean so it doesn't really matter.
A world that Captain Nemo takes the Circus of the Disquieting to as part of a special performance. The denizens of this world are somewhat technologically advanced, but at the same time not. The best way to describe it would just be 'alien'. Carbon is extremely rare in this world, and is used as a valuable currency.
The aliens here look like fetal animals floating in bubbles of rose-colored liquid. They have long spindly limbs that they can stretch out, to grab stuff and pull it in to their bubble, which acts as an external stomach sealed within a selective membrane. The dark truth, which isn't revealed in the tale, is that they all look like fetal animals because… they are. Each and every one of the aliens is an embryonic world-eater. However, their lifespan is so incredibly long that it is doubtful that most of them will survive to full maturity, and if they do, humanity will no doubt be long-extinct by then.
Currently Unused Material
These are just characters that I've had ideas for, and have little or no plans to use them at this point, just thought they'd be worth writing down in case I/someone else want to use them later.
Stage Name: Charlotte, the Spider Woman
Real Name: Undecided, not really important.
Act(s) within the Circus: Acrobatics, Wheel of Death, Balancing Acts, etc.
Attractions Starring in: The Den of Freaks and/or the Hall of Humans Extraordinaire
Abilities/Anomalous Traits: Has three pairs of arms, as well as two additional pairs of eyes. In addition to this, her palms naturally secrete a very sticky substance. She has a very good (non-anomalous) sense of balance, and other traits that would be useful to a circus performer.
Backstory: Was brought to the circus by Manny, after living with a family that kept her hidden away for most of her life. Because of this, she has numerous issues, the least of which is a certain amount of social anxiety. Because she is a circus performer, that's a big deal. For drama, she may suffer from stage fright, panic attacks, or even traumatic flashbacks.
Stage Names: Derrick and Darling Danger Devil (Danger is their middle name)
Real Names: ??? (same last name, as they're married)
Acts within the Circus: Globe and/or Wall of Death, where they play out 'fights' between each other, hence the name 'Dueling Devils'.
Anomalous Traits: Unknown, possibly the ability to catch on fire, lending to the devil motif.
Non-anomalous skills: Very good at driving motorcycles, as well as being very good under pressure. The power of love.
Backstory: Undecided.
Fifthism
Fifthism is like a remnant, an echo of what once was from a long time ago. It curls around our shadows, the shadows of our shadows, and urges a few of us to a home that no longer exists. Pieces of a greater, much greater whole to try and bring people back. In this sense, each individual group is connected by the need but manifest in their own crazy, seemingly unrelated cults. These cults then drive their various ways to try and return to the whole, the whole that is so massive that the emotions, morals, and culture behind these efforts are insignificant.
Somewhere, where we cannot comprehend, and would not dare to tread if we could, something lurks. It could be described as a flailing child longing for companionship. It could be described as an opportunistic predator. But it is… lonely. Why does something so great and terrible and incomprehensible feel this way? Does it even know?
To ease its all too human feelings, it reaches out to us. Only a chosen few, which sometimes seem to be selected carefully, other times completely at random, are susceptible to its influence. It stares upon our universe unblinkingly, waiting for the opportunity to break through and… who knows? Now, it can only reach the tiniest tips of its arms through, shaping the lives of its chosen and influencing them through dreams, songs, knowledge.
Its greatest weapon as of now is its eldritch existence, allowing it to see the flow and ebb of time around it. This power, if it could be called that, is Synchronicity manipulation, the ability to make sure that its followers are always where it wants them to be, when it wants them to be, and influenced in the way it wishes.
Southern Fifthism seems to be convinced that the path to apotheosis is through burning, rising into the air as fumes. Primitivism, in comparison, is a harsh and cruel path, but perhaps more natural. Primitivists do not see salvation as something that everyone is meant to attain, nor do they wait to be called as the Southerners do. They fight their way to the top of the food chain, with tooth and nail. Sometimes this is a brawl fought through experimentation and science, other times, it involves literally devouring those weaker than you, until you gain enough 'value' in the eyes of the Fifthist Entity, to be taken by it.
The current sect of Fifthist Primitivists is a fringe group of members of the scientific community, some formerly belonging to Prometheus Labs or other organizations steeped in the anomalous. Their philosophy is largely concerned with collaborating to devise a method by which they can ascend from a human form, to something… greater? Something beyond the cycle natural beings are bound by. That of birth, life, death, decomposition giving way to new life, new birth, and so on. Immortality, but so much more. True freedom, in their eyes, to discover the secrets of the universe(s) while not being bound by time. Their desires are backed by the Fifthist Entity, which waits patiently for them to fulfill its purposes before scooping them up, and taking them to… what they wished for all along? Or possibly their own personal hell.
A central theme of Fifthist Primitivism is the deep sea. The deep sea is viewed as a bed of life, where you have to adapt to survive, or be eaten by something that has. Highly ‘ascended’ Primitivists may develop barnacle like growths on their body, or other bodily modifications that defy explanation.
More or less what it sounds like. Fifthists whomst believe the way to a higher existence is to follow technology, and upload their consciousnesses into the internet, or some otherwise permanent data storage system. And I Must Scream is in full effect if it needs to be, as it's not clear exactly how much control these souls that have been 'uploaded' have over what is left of themselves, and they are able to be influenced by changes made to their 'programming'.
If Only in My Dreams
Just put this here so I wouldn't have to scroll up so far while previewing.
A gaunt naked man with the head of an antelope bounded through a busy street, yodeling in some unknown tongue. A few passerby raised an eyebrow in disapproval as he did, but most carried on their own way. Around him, buildings stretched up too far to see the tops of. The world seemed to shimmer and shift as if it were painted in watercolors, but no one reacted in the slightest. This was business as usual in Oneiroi West.
A brightly clad woman wearing a black domino mask soared overhead, a deep purple cape billowing behind her. She zipped proudly through the air, both arms extended before her. The scent of freshly baked cinnamon rolls followed her, turning heads from the busy citizens below as they looked up in wonder. She kept a close eye on the naked man as he turned and shouted insults at her.
"Killjoy! Party pooper! Daughter of a fatherless Xiupan swine!"
The woman ignored him as she spoke into a device that was fastened tightly around her wrist. "He's coming your way, Styx." She effortlessly dodged a stone flung at her by the man, and returned fire with crimson blades of light, which appeared above her shoulders. One of them struck the man in the arm, causing him to yelp and swear loudly.
He reached a dead end as a building abruptly sprang up out of nowhere (which was a surprisingly common occurrence in the Dreamland), and he turned to face his pursuer. He stomped up and down in frustration, causing a puddle he was standing in to splash wildly. "You'll never take me alive! Never! Never! I'm protected, protected by the everlasting soul of-"
His speech was cut off as he found himself suddenly bound by the puddle of strange liquid, as it suddenly congealed into a solid block around his legs. Yelling incoherently, he wildly shook, falling onto his face in the process. The puddle of liquid continued to rise behind him, forming a humanoid shape. The cape-clad woman alighted on the ground next to the pair, and brushed off her shoulders.
The form made of liquid solidified into the shape of a man, who took hold of one of the naked man's antlers, ignoring his frustrated cries. He spoke, his form shimmering with the reverberations of his voice. "Took you long enough."
The woman rolled her eyes, and punched through the liquid man's head. "I've had enough chatter from this one already, don't you start."
Below the fist embedded in his face, the liquid man cracked a smile.
"Welcome to Mobile Task Force Omicron Rho. Or, as we're known, the Dream Team. Now, I don't know
what all of you have heard, or what you're expecting. But if you came into this expecting it to be easy as falling asleep and dreaming, you're only half right."
Andrea sat straight up in her seat, listening intently to the Task Force Director as he spoke. Next to her, a clean shaven man loudly smacked his gum, earning him a quick glare from Andrea.
"But your task is far more than that. In the past years, we've come to realize that lying below our waking world is another one. A place where dreams are quite literally reality itself. Some have called it 'the Dreamlands' or 'the Neural Net', but we've taken to calling it 'The Oneiroi Collective'."
Andrea glanced around her. The room was full of new recruits for the Dream Team, herself included. No two members looked the same, not even the way they carried themselves. Some looked worried, others had a determined gleam in their eyes, others still, like the gum-chewing man next to her, looked completely bored. She shook her head in annoyance.
"In the past, the Oneiroi Collective has been viewed as many things. An egregious security risk. A business venture. A pain in the ass. Which one of those interpretations is right? All of them. But one thing we can not ignore is that the Oneiroi Collective is there, and it's open. So we're damn sure going to use it for our own ends."
The man seated next to Andrea blew a large bubble, which popped all over his face, causing a brief outbreak of low laughter through the room. Andrea herself suppressed a chuckle.
"This is a new low, Styx. A whole new low."
Andrea— Or rather, her dreaming self, Commander Coldblood— pushed against the wall of flesh before them, trying to keep it from smashing her. Below her, Styx pooled in a fleshy crevice, unfazed by the circumstances due to his liquid form.
"Eh, it's not that bad. Just your standard Sarkic flesh-nightmare. Look at me, I'm doing fine."
The flesh wall pushed on Coldblood again, nearly causing her to buckle. She summoned a volley of energy blades, causing it to relent for a brief moment. "This isn't the time for jokes! Where the hell are they?!"
Suddenly, the wall before them was split in two, coating them in a layer of viscous green blood. Grabbing a small round object from the center of Styx's form, Commander Coldblood flew upward and out of the Flesh-monster's stomach.
There was a deafening shriek as the newly bisected monster fell into an abyss below in a blur of tusks, orifices, and limbs. Coldblood alighted on a nearby precipice overlooking the scene, placing the small object from Styx on the ground, which secreted more liquid, allowing him to reform. A low humming noise and the smell of exhaust asserted itself as a new figure descended from above.
"Target neutralized. Agents Commander Coldblood and Liquid Styx retrieved."
The figure was a giant steel sword, covered in segmented metal plates. After watching the beast fall deeper into the abyss, it began to shift and whir, adopting the shape of a mechanical human. Turning, it looked Styx and Coldblood up and down and— finding no visible harm to either of them— walked past them, to the nearby extraction point.
After completely reforming, Styx stretched, as if bored. "See? That wasn't so bad, was it?"
Commander Coldblood sighed in exasperation, and followed the mech, with Styx in tow.
"Shadows? I'm pretty sure that's from a video game. I mean, I knew the docs were a bunch of nerds, but-"
The laid back man— his name was Jefferson, apparently— shoved another scoop of mashed potatoes into his mouth, with a sly grin from ear to ear. Next to him, Andrea only poked at her food, the anxiousness of a new job robbing her appetite. Across from the pair, a shorter man pushed in his glasses, before calmly responding.
"'Shadow' is the term for the form a human Oneiroi— the dreaming self— takes. The terms are interchangeable, but it's used to distinguish between Oneiroi that have bodies, and the ones that don't. Aside from that, it's a term from psychology. Carl Jung was one of the first proponents of-"
Jefferson waved his hand dismissively. "Ay, was just joking around, no need for the lecture."
The calm man adjusted his glasses again, going back to his meal quietly. "Apologies. I'm Cassady. Joss Cassady."
Andrea nodded politely to him. After washing her meal down with a glass of water, she looked Cassady over curiously. "So, shadows, Oneiroi, whatever— How do you know what they're going to look like?"
Cassady shrugged. "There are a few ways of guessing, but apparently you don't really know until it happens. I studied up on it a bit, and the best we have is a system that can predict behavior, the C.O.A.N.E system. Conscientiousness, Openness to experience, Agreeableness, Neuroticism, Emotional Stability. It's like a personality test, basically, and-" Cassady paused, glancing at Jefferson in a self-conscious way. "…Sorry, rambling again."
Jefferson reclined in his seat. "You're fine, ese." He turned to the two, eyebrows raised. "So, what do you think your shadows will be like?"
Andrea shrugged. "A badass police officer, maybe. What about you, Joss?"
Cassady pushed in his glasses, a slight blush on his face. "I don't know… a robot or something?"
Segment where the chips are down but Cujo saves them.
Andrea walked into commons with a blanket around her shoulders, holding a warm cup of coffee. The lights were off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She took a seat in a nearby sofa, and stared blankly at the wall for a moment. She started as she heard a low noise, like a growl, and she quickly stood out of the seat to get a better look.
To her surprise, it was a small dog, a cream-colored Pomeranian, curled up on the couch cushion. The dog watched her warily as Andrea took a seat on an adjacent couch, before relaxing its ears and lowering its head.
"Cute little fucker, isn't she? But vicious, I'll tell you."
Andrea turned her head to the new voice, recognizing it as Jefferson. Jefferson raised his own mug of coffee to her, before taking a seat next to the dog, who seemed to tolerate his presence. Andrea looked him up and down curiously, before speaking softly.
"I figured you would be asleep by now."
Jefferson grimaced. "Hah. I've always had trouble sleeping. What about you, long day?"
Andrea raised an eyebrow. "Long day? Are you kidding? Our first day at Omicron Rho, learning about a whole other world, meeting all the other recruits, being assigned a room, getting growled at by a dog?"
"This is the Foundation. What'd you expect?" Jefferson absentmindedly scratched the dog's head, causing her tongue to loll out in contentment. "As for the dog, she's not so bad. You just gotta be calm, they can tell if you're stressed."
The dog turned to him and licked his hand, causing him to chuckle. "You just don't need that stress, do 'ya Cujo?"
Andrea stifled a laugh. "Cujo? That little fuzzball?"
Jefferson shrugged. "Apparently she's bigger in Oneiroi. You ready for tomorrow? First dive in."
Andrea shivered. "I'm not sure. It's a lot to take in."
"It's okay to be anxious, it is a brave new world after all. I know I don't look like much, but I'm here for you. Cujo's here for you too." Jefferson glanced at Cujo, who turned away disinterestedly, eliciting a laugh from the pair. "You're in an MTF now, that practically makes us all family."
After a moment of silence, Andrea finally spoke. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."
Jefferson said nothing, just nodded and sipped his coffee as he reclined in his chair. Cujo bored of him after a while, and hopped down off the couch, and up into Andrea's lap.
Andrea blinked at her, surprised, before petting Cujo softly.
The event occurs which traps the team in the Unconscious. A few members are snatched up by Ammit and lost.
Nothing made sense here. Up and down, left and right, north and south, right and wrong, they were all just words here. 'Meaning' was a luxury that was afforded to very few things in the crawling chaos of the Oneiroi Unconscious.
Still, there were a few eyes in the hurricane. A small island flew through the void, topped by a quaint little house. It had a grassy lawn, and warm light, like that of the sun, which beamed down on it from an unknown source. On its perimeter, it was surrounded by a white picket fence. It was a charming and comforting sight, but all the more disturbing due to its comparative normalcy.
A body lay face down on the lawn, that of a human with vaguely insect-like features. Branded on its forehead was a peculiar logo.
"Hm?" A deep voice resonated from inside the house. It sounded pleasantly surprised. "A visitor?!"
The door swung open suddenly, causing it to slam against the side of the house.
An enormous creature slumped out of the doorframe, causing the walls to contort and expand to accommodate it. Its face— covered with coarse, deep purple hair— landed mere centimeters from the face-down body. Its free-rolling eyes were glazed over and dead, like a doll's eyes. Still, all three of them managed to focus on the body before them as the mouth below them pulled upwards in an unnerving smile.
"You must be the therapist. Thank goodness, I've been dying to see you." Its mouth opened and closed as it spoke with no real expression, like a puppet operated by someone's hand.
Lurching forward, the creature took the body in its maw, before quickly retracting itself into the house. A long limb reached out, slamming the door shut behind it.
On the inside, the friendly facade of the house fell away, giving way to utter madness. It was impossibly large, with various objects and vague figures floating freely, unaffected by any sort of gravity. The creature zoomed through, looking for a convenient place to deposit its guest. It settled for a chair that was surrounded by various disembodied limbs and other detritus. Leaning over the chair, it expelled the limp body, which was now covered in a saccharine purple ooze.
"You'll have to excuse the mess, I have been kind of stressed as of late."
The guest was apparently unbothered, as it slumped forwards in its chair, making no movements. The creature reclined in the air, allowing what was visible of its long neck to coil in a perimeter around the chair. From somewhere deeper within, a long arm stretched out, allowing the head to rest itself upon its hand.
"Well, once again, thanks for coming to see me on such short notice. I know my home isn't exactly in the nicest neighborhood."
As if on cue, a window scooted across the wall, showcasing a tornado of lava passing by the outside of the house. The force of it caused the house to shake, nearly knocking the guest of of the chair.
"What's my name? Hm, I'm not sure I have a real name, but everyone outside of the Unconscious calls me 'Ammit'. I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's some sort of cool name from mythology."
The chair finished rocking back and forth, and the guest's limp head lolled over to one side. Ammit opened its mouth slightly in a toothless grin.
"It's a pretty cool name, isn't it?"
There was no response from the guest. One of Ammit's eyes gained a red tinge as a blood vessel burst.
"…Fine, be that way."
…
"Oh yes, I called you here to talk. You see, something happened recently. Something that's been bothering me much more than it should. You see, I'm one of the only creatures living here in the Unconscious that's retained a modicum of sanity—"
Ammit paused for a second, to adjust its guest's body, which had almost fallen out of its chair.
"— So, I think I'm sort of entitled to say that this part of it, at least, is my territory. I should have absolute control over it. I should have control of what's going on in MY TERRITORY."
…
"Er, sorry. But you understand, right?"
Ammit reached his hand behind the guest, and shook the chair, bobbing the guest's head up and down.
"Thank you, at least someone else agrees. So when these little insects show up, unannounced, I should be able to… take care of business, right?"
The guest's head bobbed up and down again.
"Of course I should. So why couldn't I? This whole place is under my control. How did they get away from me?"
…
"I'm in control."
"I'm in control, right?"
"I need to know that I'm in control."
"Please, god, I need control. I'm stuck in this dead end job with no hope for the future. I've never had any control in my life. The only thing I have to comfort me is dreaming and pretending that I'm a monster that destroy anything in its way. I don't have anything to live for, just don't ruin this for me. Don't ruin it, please don't ruin it for me."
The walls shuddered and the very space in the house seemed to shake as Ammit reared up, its eyes blazing with fury. The air became uncomfortably hot as Ammit wailed.
"I'M IN CONTROL!"
…Initializing.
Initialization complete. Hello world.
Bootup: Oneiroi-based Artificial Intelligence Conscript 3 (Morph3us.oaic). ver1.6.3 Gen(I). Lvl. 2 Clearance.
<Morph3us:> Good evening.
<Morph3us:> Hello?
<Morph3us:> .ping Phoebe1or Phanta2os Hypn0s
ERROR: NO RESPONSE
<Morph3us:> .ping OR!Control Priority !!!
ERROR: NO RESPONSE
<Morph3us:> .ping Hypn0s
<Morph3us:> .ping Hypn0s
<Morph3us:> .ping
<Morph3us:> .ping
The Artificial Intelligence Conscripts designed for the Oneiroi Collective were still in a relatively early stage of development, mostly used to pore through and analyze data. Personality drivers were only an afterthought at this point. Even if an .oiac somehow had installed a personality driver, it wouldn't really feel anything. So why was this .oaic… panicking?
Morpheus is unable to connect with his team members or the waking world, leaving it trapped in the Oneiroi Unconscious as well, albeit in a wholly different state of being. It panics and tries to connect to its counterparts, team members, and anyone who is listening, but is unsuccessful. An unnamed entity approaches it, and either awakens it to the fact that it can make its own decisions and find out how to help itself, or bestows those traits upon it. Which interpretation is left open to the reader, as is the identity of the force approaching it.
It could be the One Beyond, or the Oneiroi Collective itself, or the awakened aspect of Morpheus.
I crouch on the roof of the highest building in Oneiroi West. It rises and falls beneath me, warm air rushing out of its windows as something near its center pulses rhythmically. Beneath me, the collective bustles with activity. Lovers, visiting dreamers, gigantic serpentine monstrosities with multiple heads, all walking peacefully in the same crowd. I stare down, unblinking, like a gargoyle on its perch. A gentle light beams down from the moons above, making the whole scene glow. But if there's one thing I know— and I know it better than anyone— when glass reflects light, it's hiding what's going on behind it.
And when the glass is shattered, there's no way to forget what you saw.
I hold out my hand in front of me again, the scrap of newspaper swaying in the warm breeze emanating from below. The words are different than the first time I read it, as is the norm for reading in a dream, but the symbols on the page remain the same. An alpha and an omega, combined into one letter. And I know exactly what they mean. [LINK GOES HERE They mean my brother-in-arms is dead.]
A sharp noise tears away my attention. A yell of frustration, and… shattering. Without even thinking, I reach around my tool belt on either side, and pull out my mode of transportation. Two pistol grips of platinum, ending with long nozzles. With a loud pop, twin tendrils emerge from my back and connect to the ends of the handles. I flex my index finger to test one, and am greeted with a gust of pressurized air. I point them downwards, and leap from the building to begin my descent.
In a residence building two blocks over, my boot launches the door from its hinges, my airguns now returned to my tool belt. Security, two dog headed insect men, leap forward to detain me, but are glued to the ground by a freshly blasted coat of silicon gel. I say nothing as they hurl curses at me.
The introduction of ALPHOMEGA REFENESTRATOR, in all his righteous glory. It's mainly told in the first person, from his perspective, in a Rorschach style way. He interrupts a crime, but finds he is too late to save the victim, who is… a window. Haunted by this failure, and the apparent death of Buttermantis fresh upon his mind, he sinks into despair at the Alphomega HQ, where he is approached by mysterious figures, who offer him vengeance against Ammit…
The Foundation
The Dream Team
I'm not sure on names or anything yet, but their shadows will be a Superheroine and a liquid person bound to a single small object. The female protagonist was the daughter of a cop who worked for the Foundation. He told her that he worked to save the world, inspiring her to one day do the same under the Foundation. (Andrea ?)
The male protagonist was recruited directly for the Dream Team, and feels that to be able to deal with the mind bending reality of the Foundationverse, he needs to be free-flowing, lending to his liquid appearance. Still, he is bound by his past and connections to people, which is represented by the small object his liquid body is bound to. (? Jefferson)
Name: Systematic Weapons Operative and Reconnaissance Device (Joss Cassady)
Classification: Human Dreamer Oneiroi
A Foundation researcher who has worked with the Foundation for quite some time, and is nearing his 40s. Despite some anxiety problems, he has dedicated himself to his work, and his steely resolve and willingness to devote himself to a project made him an excellent candidate for the Dream Team. Within the Dream, he appears as a transforming mechanical robot, which can fly, has great strength and durability, and can transform into a giant sword.
Psychology
Reasoning behind Shadow: Because of his stressful life, he finds it comforting to picture himself as a robot that does not feel, and acts out a set pattern of behavior with no deviations. His training has molded him into also perceiving himself as a weapon for the Foundation, a development that all parties have been satisfied with.
Name: Helmbreaker Horacio
Classification: Human Dreamer Oneiroi
An MTF member transferred to the Dream Team, he is a sturdy man in his mid twenties who is serious and solemn. Within the dream, however, his other side takes over, with a boisterous personality and chivalrous code of honor. He appears as a knight made of solid stone, wielding a stone club that is an extension of one of his arms. Has something of an odd friendship with SWORD, and has been known to use SWORD as a weapon when push comes to shove.
Psychology
Reasoning behind Shadow: Life has been a constant uphill battle for him, forming his shadow into the form of a sturdy knight that will not be denied. In addition to this, he is an avid fan of the Dark Souls series, which influenced his armored appearance greatly, identifying with the character of Havel the Rock.
Name: Alphomega ButterMantis (Alph)
Classification: Human Dreamer Oneiroi
Exists mostly as cannon fodder, so Ammit will have someone to establish him as a villain.
Psychology
Reasoning behind Shadow: Alph sees himself as a pawn in the bigger picture of the Foundation, and feels overwhelmed by the world around him. As such, he sees himself as a bug compared to the larger forces that exist all around him.
Name: ███████ [Illegible] (Harriet Phyllis)
Classification: Human Dreamer Oneiroi?
[DATA EXPUNGED], resulting in Agent Phyllis entering a persistent comatose state. Her Oneiroi, formerly Springtime en Flora, has been irreparably changed. Despite this, her new shadow, only able to be expressed as ███████ is still a valuable asset to the team, as it is the only known human dreamer shadow capable of inflicting corruption and changing onto other shadows. This ability is not to be used unless as a last resort, further research pending approval.
███████ appears as a darkly robed figure, the robe held together at the neck by a golden pendant with a strange sign carved into it. Beneath the robe, she is a mass of eyes and tentacles.
Psychology unknown.
Reasoning behind Shadow: [DATA EXPUNGED]
Name: N/A, answers to waking name, Cujo
Classification: Canine Unit Dreamer Oneiroi
A member of both the Dream Team and MTF-Λ-9/Animal Assets Division, Cujo is a female Pomeranian known in both teams for her feisty yet loyal temperament. She has something of a Napoleon complex, believing herself to be far bigger than she really is. While this is amusing in the waking world, in the dreams it turns her into a force to be reckoned with. She appears as a giant wolf. Woe betide you if she sees you hurt one of her team members, and pray to whatever god will listen that your death will be quick.
Interestingly enough, she also has healing and cleansing powers, which the Dream Team is unaware of at first. Those that she has healed or cleansed can understand her voice, revealing a tender and motherly side beneath her boundless pride.
Psychology N/A
Reasoning behind Shadow: Obvious
Name: Oneiroi-Based Artificial Intelligence Conscript 3 (Morpheus)
Classification: AIC Crawler
Alongside his counterparts Phobe1or and Phanta2os, Morph3us was an artificial intelligence conscript responsible for compiling data on various segments of Oneiroi collectives, mostly involving sifting through the data contained on the various posts and websites in Oneiroi West. While assisting members of , it acted to relay messages from the dreaming operatives to mission control in the waking world. After being trapped in the Oneiroi Unconscious along with the rest of the team, it loses its contact with its counterparts and the waking world, leaving it completely alone.
It eventually forms its own independent consciousness, and tries to assist the team in various ways. In this, it develops a very keen understanding of the Oneiroi, realizing that Ammit is not just a monster to be destroyed. At the end, it is left unsure of what to do with itself, as it is no longer compatible with its original function or programming, and it leaves to exist in Oneiroi West. (Headcanon: It finds the Gamers Against Weed, and enters into an odd friendship with bones.)
Other
A system used to predict the appearance and behavior of shadows within the Oneiroi Collective by gauging how they correspond to certain personality traits. Can also be applied the other way around, in that observation of shadow behaviors can be used to determine who exactly the shadow belongs to. While most of the heavy lifting is done by .oaics such as Morph3us, a certain amount is known to the team.
- Conscientiousness: People high in this area tend to have more control over their shadow's appearance, able to change it at will. They also tend towards the ability of cleansing. People low in this area have shadows which will shift and change to match their mood.
- Openness (to Experience): People who are open to new experiences are able to quickly adapt to suit any situation, and are overall able to understand the internal workings of the Oneiroi Collective. People who are the opposite are often more resistant to sudden changes, and can withstand certain amounts of damage from Nightmares and Terrors.
- Agreeableness: People who are highly agreeable show a tendency towards empathic abilities, but are overall more susceptible to parasomnic threats. People with low agreeableness are highly resistant to parasomnics, but their ego barrier can get in the way of connecting to collectives, or other Oneiroi modes of communication. They also have a greater tendency towards developing psionic traits.
- Neuroticism: People with high emotional stability have shadows that more closely resemble themselves, and generally have a limited range of abilities. People with low emotional stability's shadows tend to be vastly different from their actual appearance, and are often unable to control their power. See Ammit for an individual with very low emotional stability.
- Extroversion: Extroverted individuals are able to quickly jump from Collective to Collective, and have a higher tendency towards lucidity. Introverted individuals share the lucidity trait, usually in greater amounts, but find it difficult to communicate with unfamiliar Oneiroi.
After the onset of the Fifthist Entity to the Oneiroi Collective, Oneiroi West sent out what could be interpreted as a distress signal, which was responded to first by the Foundation. The Foundation offered to step in and make use of antimemetic devices which could keep the Fifth Collective under control, an offer which was accepted by Oneiroi West. As per this agreement, Oneiroi West would cooperate with Foundation research, while ensuring that its populace would remain unaware of their existence.
Doctor Ixion has also made contact with Oswald Dust, a representative of multiple collectives, and head of Oneiroi Entity Resources. The contract between the two allows the use of Oneiroi Dark, which is a hidden search system that can be used to anonymously view the Oneiroi feeds, even outside the dream. It also allows the use of .oaic's in the Oneiroi Collective.
The Oneiroi Collective
A mystery, wrapped inside of an enigma, wrapped inside of a burrito. The Oneiori Collective has existed since, possibly before, the formation of intelligent life in the universe. It is a mirror, so to speak, in that it reflects our selves, but only when we are dreaming. Why? Good question, but here’s some info that blows what I just said out of the water because fuck you, this is the Oneiori Collective. The Oneiroi Collective is also home to many species and entities that have no waking world counterpart, and possibly never have or will.
A dreamer can access the dreamlands through a number of ways. Oneiroi Incorporated would like you to think that they’re the only way, but this is not the case. One can also make contact with their dreaming self through deep meditation, occult rituals, manipulations of the brain. There also exist what are best described as ‘backdoors’ into the Oneiroi Collective, through which a walking entity may travel. One such backdoor is accessible only through the surface layer of the Not, though only one ship has dared to search it out.
While sending a consciousness to or from the Oneiroi Collective, one travels through a completely empty space, referred to as 'Todash Space', or 'Tesseract Space'. The names are a reference to Steven King's Dark Tower series, and a Wrinkle in Time, respectively. Basically, it's the barrier you have to cross through while reality is being bent to allow you to access this other world. It may even be possible to get stuck there…
The dreaming reflection of the self is called an Oneiroi. The Oneiroi of a human dreamer can be called a ‘shadow’ or a ‘corporeal’. Conversely, noncorporeals have abandoned their forms. In a sense, Oneiroi are information, singular thoughts flowing along a stream of consciousness.
Collectives
Oneiroi West is the largest, most coherent collective of Oneroi in existence. It consists of visiting, dreaming humans, and pure Oneroi who have abandoned their bodies completely. Members of OW have autonomy and a sense of self. Existence in OW is generally considered favorable to other large collectives. However, the great consciousness that their many minds form (an entity in itself, something like an avatar) does not allow them to die. This is a serious problem as many Oneroi have grown bored with immortality.
The acting general of Oneiroi West is a noncorporeal Oneiroi named Fairy-Tail Longshadow. She is a tiny sprite with powerful occult abilities, and the soul of a dragon bound to her shadow. Don't be fooled by her manic pixie attitudes and small appearance, she's quite the force to be reckoned with.
OC, or the Oneiroi Collective, is a hive-mind entity located in metaphysical space. It is a collective unconscious utilizing the brainpower created by sleeping things. It has been known to manifest in physical space as inanimate and organic objects which interact with dreamspace in a way that favors Oneiroi. This has been disputed by some, as identifying 'favorable' outcomes implies an obvious motive or method of behavior, neither of which has been conclusively found across scholarly studies of Oneiroi.
The acting general (a title given as a mere formality, there is doubt that OC has any real grasp on the concept, and the general holds no real sway with them) is a nameless Ammit class terror which was plucked from the Unconscious. Much to its horror, the Oneiroi Collective funneled millions of its own Oneiroi into it, creating an abomination of thousands of shifting minds in the shape of a vale of formless sludge. It now acts mostly on pure animalistic instinct, dormant for the most part, except when it serves the purposes of the Great Collective.
See Sleeping Under the Stars. A Collective controlled by the Fifth Church. It employs advertising tactics in Oneiroi West and other collectives, as well as picking up stray Oneiroi in the Unconscious, and even swallowing whole minor collectives if given the opportunity. In the future, it may become a significant threat to the Oneiroi Collectives, requiring intervention from the long dormant generals, but for now it is kept in check.
A nearly abandoned collective that was once a hub of activity. It was started by two lovers whose minds became one, forming a collective. However, a sudden accident stole one of them away from the other before they could even vacate their body. As a result, the collective fell into a dark disarray, stagnating as the lonely ruler sits quietly in their tower. It is nothing but a sprawling field of cinders and sparks surrounding the capitol, which basks in a never ending sunset. However, this is only a faint illusion, and the reality is a far more depressing landscape, filled with ashen replicas of the lost loved one.
The 'general' of Distant Embers is a single minded army of entities, angelic in appearance, that all act with a single mind, called the 'Heavenly Host'. Suspiciously, they remove anyone who threatens to lift the veil of Distant Embers, and have never been seen leaving it, or existing at all when they are not active. Anyone willing to think hard enough about the state of Distant Embers should quickly realize who the single mind behind this army is.
Abilities
Empaths and Psionics are those with the ability to mentally communicate with the shadows of others. Empaths tend towards a more peaceful side, and have the ability to channel the thoughts and voices of others, feel what they are feeling, and detect 'imprints' left on environments or people. Over time, an experienced empath may gain the ability to perform this act in the waking world, or even to manipulate the emotions, thoughts, and memories of others.
Psionics are similar in some regards, but relate more towards outwardly projecting their shadows, rather than drawing from inwards. Psionics can project themselves to other locations within the dream, and offensively incapacitate another shadow by asserting their dominance over them. A powerful Psionic may become a reality bender within the dream, and should be monitored for displaying similar traits in the waking world.
Cleansers are individuals who have the ability to remove, repair, or otherwise provide healing for Oneiroi who have been corrupted, damaged, or changed. This is done by the affected Oneiroi opening itself to being changed by the Cleanser (an act which is greatly controversial, viewed by some as wholly inappropriate and by others as a great display of weakness. The very act itself is known to attract nightmare creatures.), and allowing them to organize their mental layout. Those who have been cleansed may have lost certain memories, and are totally helpless to any harmful or beneficial changes the Cleanser may have made.
Another, easier and less controversial, method of cleansing involves the simple putting to rest of one's Oneiroi self, which allows it to heal. The body of this individual, if they have one, would enjoy a peaceful dreamless sleep, for the most part. Cleansers can also totally separate an Oneiroi from their host body, but usually only with permission. Legislature regarding what constitutes 'permission' is highly debated within Oneiroi West, but the general rule is that if the Oneiroi is too corrupted to give an informed answer, consent is implied.
Put simply, 'damaging' refers to any harm to the psyche or structural integrity of an Oneiroi. To break it down further, there are three types of damage. Simple harm, which is just referred to as 'damage' or 'harm', and does not carry over into the waking world, though a sufficient amount of harm can force an awakening.
Changing, while somewhat more complex, is still pretty easy to understand. Within some collectives, certain entities have more power than others, be it because they own a significant amount of the collective (or it could be that it is their own mental landscape), or they have gained this power by permission of the owner, empowerment from another source, or a proficiency in psionics. Changing is the act of asserting your sense of self over your target's. You are, in a sense, forcing yourself into their mind like a parasite, and using this window of opportunity to suppress them. This can force them into submission, or literally change their appearance into a more manageable form. The Foundation is very interested in harnessing this power.
Corruption is where it gets really complicated. To help you understand it, I'm going to give you a crash course on the real life thing I based it on, the Japanese religion Shinto. To grossly oversimplify it to the parts you need to understand Corruption, in Shinto there are things called 'Kami', which are comparable to things like nature spirits. Shinto also places a high value on the concept of purity, and coming into contact with impure things such as blood, excrement, death, it leaves a soul on your body and your spirit. Bringing impure things into the vicinity of a kami is considered highly disrespectful, and if a kami is polluted it can become corrupt and hostile. Ritual purification using running water is one way to clean impurity. Keyword is 'running'. Stagnant water does not do shit, because everything sinks to the bottom. Stagnant water is a breeding ground for insects and disease.
So, to put this together; The Oneiroi in this case is acting as the Kami, and it can be corrupted by an abundance of 'impure' things. In the case of Corruption, we're talking about forbidden knowledge (lovecraft style), seeping in of the Unconscious to the conscious mind, and the wavelength of information Nightmares and Terrors exist on. Being forced to confront something that your waking mind cannot deal with or rejects for whatever reason, is how Corruption starts. It can be something like Asuka's confrontation with Arael from Evangelion, or it can be a straightforward end of an HP Lovecraft story type of deal. Corruption is much more harmful than either damaging or changing, as it can drive your Oneiroi insane, make it into a foaming monster, or even render the waking self permanently comatose under extreme circumstances.
Characters and Entities
An endlessly reincarnating legion of Oneiroi who are the best there is at what they do. Each one is assigned a specific trait at which they are the absolute best, and is often indicated by their name. However, they often suffer from crippling overspecialization. The vast majority of them are related to mundane activities, and become crestfallen that they cannot live up to Alphomega Warrior and the other original members of the covenant that was founded during the Great Occult War. Their current leader is Alphomega Refenestrator, and they also have a representative in Omicron-Rho; Alphomega Buttermantis.
- Alphomega Refenestrator
- Alphomega Buttermantis
- Alphomega Chekhov's-Gun
- Alphomega Critmeister (Literally Zyn)
- Alphomega Undead
- Alphomegus Faux-Latinus
- Alphometa Storybane
- Alphomega Flowerkeeper (Possibly a reinCARNATION of Shaper Deathbell Urooj)
Eldritch things. The Old Ones. Elder and Outer Gods. Their existence in the dream is wrapped in mystery, and the vast majority of Oneiroi, even the wisest and eldest among them, are blissfully unaware of their existence. Their very presence has unpredictable effects. They can warp the dream and drive the dreamers mad with a mere touch, or they can inspire one to knowledge greater than any mortal could know. Benevolence, malevolence, ambivalence, all are but words to them, and no one but themselves and their fellow beings could claim to understand their true motives, if they indeed have any other than survival.
Every collective will one day become aware of Those Beyond, and cults dedicated to them will form. In rituals meant to ascend to their status, call them to their plane, or seek communion with Those Beyond, that collective will be thrown into chaos, and lost to time. This is the way it has always been, and it is the way it shall be. As they exist now, all they are capable of doing is casting shadows upon the canvas of the mind, only to be detected by the most observant… or the most insane.
Three Oneiroi of unknown origin, said to be the most powerful Cleanser, Psionic, and Empath to ever dream. They descend from a realm beyond the dream and strike without warning, and one would be forgiven for believing them to be Those Beyond. They are said to strike down those who would betray their brothers and sisters in search of forbidden knowledge and ungodly arts without mercy. Their base of operations is the hollowed— possibly still living— body of the greatest Terror to ever live.
The innocent have nothing to fear from them, and their prestigious code of honor is tarnished only by one sin, which was unspeakable. Thankfully, for their reputation, none are left alive to recount it.
A trickster said to have roamed the Dreamlands for ages, loyal to no Collective nor cause. Everything it does is to amuse itself, and if it has some greater goal or purpose, it doesn't care to elaborate. Even the small sect dedicated to serving what they claim to be its will, the Leanúna Na Fianna, are unsure of its motives. It seems to have a great degree of control over its own appearance, but it always appears with a large hat, and a pair of antlers. Some say that it is a childish One Beyond, others that it is an avatar of the Saturn Deer. An Fianna says nothing, but laughs at us as we try to discern their identity.
The Oneiroi Unconscious
Characters and Entities
Name: Ammit
Classification: Human Dreamer Oneiroi, Terror
Taking its name from the Oneiroi designation of shadows/oneiroi that have ascended to the status of Terror, Ammit is possibly the most feared and reviled Oneiroi during the time of this tale series. Fortunately, it remains within the Unconscious for the vast majority of the time it is active, residing in a plot of space that it has deemed 'its territory'. In this space, it compulsively collects, kills, and feeds on other Oneiroi or dream entities that happen to pass through its territory. It has severe control issues, and does not respond positively to things being out of its control. It's also quite possibly completely insane.
It is, however, a natural part of the Oneiroi ecosystem, and without Ammit, several smaller terrors and nightmare creatures would be making more frequent raids on the bigger collectives. Feeding on a constantly ready supply of these from the Unconscious has allowed Ammit to grow immensely powerful within its 'territory'.
Extremely low emotional stability | Low agreeableness | Extremely high conscientiousness | Moderate Extroversion | Moderate openness to experience
Shadow Name: Unknown
Reasoning behind Shadow: Based on a toy that the person behind Ammit had as a child, which they used to act out their frustrations with the world around them. Reflecting this, the full body of Ammit can never be seen, just an extremely long neck, and only one arm at a time (as the other arm is operating the 'head').
'Nightmare' is an umbrella term for entities, locations, and even collectives born of the unconscious, originating from negative emotions, repressed feelings and desires, and fears. Nightmares are shadows of shadows, as their individual fears arise in the Unconscious, joining other similar creatures until they form a larger colonial entity. Natural disasters, tragedies, and other traumatic events have a great chance of becoming Nightmares. Unlike Terrors, it is impossible for Oneiroi to become classified as Nightmares.
While the Oneiroi Collective Minds offer protection for Oneiroi within them, Nightmares are still capable of harassing them on occasion, as the Collectives can often be slow to respond. Nightmares are classified by the Oneiroi into a few categories:
- Kauket: Relatively minor Nightmares, usually taking the form of small entities that represent basic fears, such as phobias of specific animals. They exist in droves outside most collectives, hoping to snatch up any Oneiroi who stray from safety. However, they are overall pretty weak, and could be considered the Goombas of the nightmare creatures.
- Sutekh: Nightmares that have become powerful enough to exert their dominance over a small portion of the Unconscious, which allows them to root themselves in that specific area, until they grow strong enough to become Apophis-class. If they do not chose to do this, they may also roam the Unconscious, preying on smaller nightmares. Sutekh class Nightmares are often linked to things such as anxiety and primal fears, and are usually the longest lasting form of Nightmare. A sizeable of the 'solid ground' in the Oneiroi Unconscious is composed of Sutekh class Nightmares.
- Apophis: Nightmares that have grown strong enough to infiltrate Collectives and wreak havoc. They often do not have a long lifespan, as they are usually struck down by the Collective Minds before they can do much damage. The actual number of Apophis class Nightmares that manage to infiltrate a collective is quite low, as the Oneiroi Collective itself actively hunts them. It is a subject of some debate among Oneiroi scholars if the collective known as the Oneiroi Collective is in fact a giant Apophis class Nightmare.
Most Terrors, like Nightmares, are entities born of the Unconscious. However, the key difference is that it is possible for a regular Oneiroi to become a Terror. What exactly differentiates a Nightmare from a Terror is a source of some debate. However, one observation is that Terrors tend to be much more intelligent, capable of rational thought, strategic thinking, and even speech in some cases. Oneiroi that have been excessively corrupted or changed without being cleansed may turn into Terrors if they are not given immediate attention. The largest Terrors are no bigger than the smallest Sutekh class Nightmare, and it is believed to be impossible for a Terror to reach the capabilities of an Apophis class Nightmare. Terrors are split into a few categories:
- Sha: Low level terrors. At this point, the transformation into a full terror can be reversible by deep cleansing. It is sometimes difficult to distinguish these from simply deranged Oneiroi.
- Ammit: Fully transformed Terrors from Oneiroi. They are often cannibalistic in nature, and will not hesitate to prey on other Oneiroi if not exiled from the Collective. The process at this point is believed to be reversible, but no recorded case of an Ammit class Terror being cleansed completely has been recorded.
A legion of corrupted Oneiroi, Terrors, and semi-intelligent nightmares that have (as much as they are capable of doing in their diminished state) banded together as a unit with the goal of raking across the unconscious for small, dying collectives, hopelessly corrupt Oneiroi, or straggling nightmares that they can strip resources from. Feeding on enough of… whatever it is that they collect, can lessen their suffering. Occasionally, a being of the Great Collective will swoop down and return with a mouthful of the legion of Miners. Whether or not this is a welcome fate for these beings is a good question. Literally my mom's Darkwraiths.
A primeval nightmare which has quietly existed for thousands of years, seemingly immune to the normal life cycle of nightmares due to its nature. It represents a human fear of death, but not of the body. Of the self. It's shambling form composed of the moaning bodies of those it has absorbed, some taking the appearance of friends or loved ones to distract and intimidate its targets, represents the fear of loss of the self to a greater whole. The Fifth Collective in particular has extreme disdain for this nightmare, and will go to great lengths to eradicate it, but every time it would seem to be destroyed, it regenerates from the tiniest fragment of itself that is left.
Locations
A Sutekh class Nightmare that has taken over, and gained the form of, a forgotten school whose inhabitants met a gruesome fate. Once, the school was a hotspot for those who sought to be trained in the art of Psionics, Empathy, and Cleansing, and other arts practiced by the Oneiroi. Those who learned there became great and respected beings, who proudly protected Collectives from Nightmares and cured Terrors of their ailments. However, the allure of forbidden knowledge was too much for the leaders of the School, who began to use their good reputation to lure in prospective students they would experiment on, in hopes of gaining greater knowledge of Shadows, Terrors, and the dreaming world.
While the Oneiroi Collectives at large were unaware of this, it was not wholly unnoticed. One of Those Beyond was attracted by the waves of pain and despair radiating from the School. The leaders of the School made contact with this One Beyond, but got much more than they intended. Whether it was the sheer presence of the One Beyond which led to the decay of the school— Or the more disturbing possibility, that their experiments disgusted even it, driving it into a rage— none can say, but the School fell into ruin, the Oneiroi driven mad. Dozens of waking humans were rendered comatose by the event, and the School was lost to the Unconscious. None know exactly what became of the Oneiroi who were still within, and many of the old guard Psionics, Empaths, and Cleansers were never heard from again.
Events
The Third Occult War: After a series of events which led to the conclusion of the Second Occult War, it became apparent to all involved parties that something had changed. As it turned out, one party in the Occult War had been researching how to use the Oneiroi Collective as a superweapon. This led to an arms race in the Oneiroi Collective, with major collectives such as Oneiroi West remaining neutral, and the Great Collective itself becoming increasingly frustrated with the interference and hostilities. When the collective fear and hostility arose as an Apophis class nightmare collective, all sides were forced to put aside their differences and cooperate with Oneiroi West to destroy it. The battle was long and hard, as the Nightmare Collective began to use its own occult strategies to raise endless numbers of terrors and nightmares, but one brave warrior of the Serpent's Hand, piloting the ship Nautilus, discovered a backdoor into the Dreamlands, and eradicated the Nightmare Collective in one fell swoop.
To make sure this would never happen again, the Oneiroi Collectives designated generals at the time, who were separated from their bodies. From Oneiroi West, there was Fairy-Tail Longshadow, a mystical sprite with the Soul of a Dragon. The Great Collective itself took a fledgling terror, and funneled so many of its own hollow Oneiroi into it that it became a cloud of sentient sludge capable of darkening the sky.
.bootup
…
<Hypnos.oaic:> Initializing. Please stand by.
…
..
.
ONEIROI
𓅓 DARK 𓅓
v1.2.13 | ©OswaldDust | Crawler: Hypn0s.oaic
Powered by Brewjería | bADblock is set to: ON
<Hypnos.oaic:> Welcome, Doctor Ixion. How can I help you today?
.ping Phobe1or, Phanta2os, Morph3us
<Phobe1or.oaic:> All systems operational.
<Phanta2os.oaic:> All systems operational.
.ping Morph3us
<Hypnos.oaic:> Error 404: No response. Please try again later.
.show status MTF-ΟΡ
S.W.O.R.D: Alive, recovered.
Helmbreaker Horacio: Alive, recovered.
Alphomega Buttermantis: Missing in action, presumed deceased.
███████: Unable to confirm due to Oneiroi traits, presumed alive.
Commander Coldblood: Missing in action, presumed alive.
Liquid Styx: Missing in action, presumed alive.
Cujo: Refused to return to extraction point, status unknown.
Note: Oneiroi-based Artificial Intelligence Conscript 3 (Morph3us.oaic) was active during the anomaly leading to the loss of Alphomega Buttermantis, Cujo, Commander Coldblood, and Liquid Styx, and has not been responsive since. Current status unknown.
.statuscheck Operation Invocation
<Hypnos:> Level 4 credentials accepted. Please stand by…
<Hypnos:> Test 13: Failure. No progress has been made in contacting EoI-1929. Test 13 resulted in the death of one member of Omicron-Rho, with three more currently missing in action. Doctor Ixion has been reprimanded for gross endangerment of team members, pending a review by Internal Affairs. Members of Omicron-Rho are not to be made aware of this development. (Last updated Yesterday by MTF-OP Director Armitage.)
.disconnect
<Hypnos:> Disconnecting. Good luck with your mission, Doctor Ixion.
.
..
…
<Morph3us:> systems down, requesting assistance
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