No Rest

February 12, 2019:

Rachel has a bad, strange dream. (Emits by Nate)

Rachel's Room at Xavier's School


NPCs: Sister Sanctity

Mentions: Larry Trask

Mood Music: None.

Fade In…

These are not good times to be a mutant.

Actually, since Rachel jumped back 20-some years, some time ago, things seem to have gone progressively worse. There was some hints of hope after some aliens attacked Metropolis and speeches of equality and unity of all of Earth inhabitants become fashionable, but that has faded and the media are full of anti-mutant propaganda. Fake news on mutant crimes. Constant reminders of the (not fake) crimes of Magneto and the Brotherhood. So. Much. Hate.

Maybe that is why Rachel has been sleeping particularly poorly lately. But maybe there is something more. Her dreams are strange lately, a blur of images and strange conversations. As if she was remembering what could have happened but never did. Or maybe it happened but she was forced to forget.

Persistent in those conversations there is a brown haired young woman. Sometimes she feels much like Kitty Pryde. Thin, smart, headstrong. Best friend and confident. But sometimes Rachel can see her bright blue eyes and she realizes this is someone else. She can almost name her, almost.

But, really? Rachel has never ever met her.

Sleep. Rachel has never really had a good nights sleep. In her lifetime, even if its only been a little over twenty four years, sleep has never been this resting event. If she wasn't sleeping with one eye open, she was dreaming of her past, of things that may yet come to pass, or already transpired. Really, for Rachel, time is a strange thing. The future? The past? A maybe world of what-ifs and what-may yet come to pass. So it isn't any wonder that her mind tends to wonder during the hours of darkness.

Sometimes, Rachel's nightmare world is filled with memories of the past, tortures and torments she went through in her youth, seeing friends gunned down, or worse - being part of the ones that hunted them. Othertimes, there are visions of something just out of reach, just on the tip of her tongue but never actually attainable.

On this particular evening, Rachel's dreams return to a point that her waking memories have hidden. A friend. A rare thing for Rachel. A voice and laughing eyes, and yet, this hasn't happened. Or has it. In her dream state, this time at least, Rachel refuses to let it go, to let it pass. Her voice calls out a single thing, followed by a single question. "Wait. Who are you?"

Who are you. Who are YOU.

The brown-haired woman is trying to sleep. It is not easy. She is does not belong anymore and it is a strain to keep herself NOW and HERE.

That is also Rachel's fault.

"It is your fault, sister," she says, although not with malice. It is like an old joke between them. "Now you have to deal with me." The woman frowns. "Or not. Because you left and… everything broke down. But we are sisters, aren't we. You said so. Family is important, that is why you do everything… this. This kid, your brother. You think he could save us, sickly as he is. But I also… had a brother."

Is this the real thing? Or just fantasy? Rachel really feels like she's caught in this weird landslide, unable to escape from reality. Or maybe she's just been listening to too much music. Regardless, pulling her thoughts together, Rachel's mind reaches outwards more, seeking the one that is speaking to her. Is this a dream? Is she still dreaming? If so, it's one hell of a doozy that Rachel hopes she remembers when she's awake.

As it is though, Rachel's mental voice calls out, the tone filled with a slightly bemused note. "Family /is/ everything. My.. brother? Which one? Nate? He's kind of a pain in the ass, and yeah, he can be sickly, but that's mostly because he keeps getting himself in trouble and ending up in the infirmary."

Tossing and turning in the 'real' world, Rachel's not quite finished though, not quite awake. Her 'dream' self digesting everything that is said. "Sister. Why can't I remember you? Why can't I recall what it is you're talking about? I can see your distress, and I can almost feel your pain, but I can not remember. Has it happened yet? Will it happen yet?"

"Nathan Dayspring? He is not ready," the woman is old now, white hair, a severe face, caused by years of struggle and suffering. "I will send back Ch'vayre to help him. He is loyal to me now, and not to that clone you created." THAT is also Rachel's fault. Unforgivable.

But Rachel never did it!

"My younger brother is Larry, silly!" again the brown-haired woman is young. And a dear friend, not the bitter old woman, the rival she would become.

Yes, Rachel is dreaming, but this time it is more lucid that the other times. This time the woman feels closer. She might be in New York, and she feels exhausted. Too tired to hide. "My brother is missing! This was not the plan… the Sentinels have him now!"

For Rachel going through this dream is beyond bizarre, and she's had some doozy of nightmares. Clones? Hey! That wasn't Rachel's fault! She even starts to say, "I'm sorry! That wasn't .." But the old woman is gone again, and in her place is another. The feeling Rachel has that goes through her is friendship. Like a sister. Like a true friend. Someone she can trust. Or can she?

Fractured memories tug to Rachel's thoughts as she listens to the one speaking. A brother. Missing. Taken by Sentinels!? "Wait. Sentinels?" The first sensation is to rush forward, to exclaim with confidence, "We have to save him." Though for whatever reason that is, Rachel's confused still.

One hand lifts upwards in her 'dream' self, rubbing her temples momentarily. "You're close by, I can feel you." Right now, Rachel's emotions are just set on confused, but anger is slowly building upwards. Annoyance. Anger. Her red-head temper rising upwards. "Who. Are. You?"

"What? NO!" Rachel can feel her? This causes worry, panic (hope?). "Stay out of this!"

The brown-haired woman, who made the mistake of falling sleep in New York, struggles to wake up. Mutant Town was BAD. She had to see the scars of what she did. It is Rachel's fault too! But this time the guilt is shared. "You made my father forget," she cries. "I hate you," she lies. "Stay out of this! (Save my brother, protect Larry)."

The contact is lost. But Rachel has a last image of 'Larry'. Tall, thin, auburn hair. She has seen this man before. Not in person, but somewhere in the X-Men databanks.

With a startled sound deep in her throat, Rachel bolts out of her bed in one quick motion. Wide awake, but with the last words and vision echoing in her head, Rachel remains standing in a fairly defensive posture for a good long bit. Her bed is a mess, her blankets and sheets thrown to the wind (or window in the case of her pillows), and Rachel's completely drenched in sweat. "What. The. Hell." Talking to herself is probably not the wisest course of action, but Rachel's still doing it.

That was not just a dream, that was a vision, Rachel's use to dreams and nightmares, but this - this was something else entirely. Finally lowering her arms down, forget about sleep for the rest of the night. She needs to take a trip to Mutant Town, and soon. Perferrably with some back-up, because this is just damn weird.

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