2008-04-20: Spread A Little Sunshine

Starring:

Kory_icon.gif Tyson_icon.gif

Summary: Kory spreads a little light on Tyson's dark dreamscape … and on the List Plot.

Date It Happened: April 20, 2008

Spread a Little Sunshine


In and outside the rubble of Brawler's Headquarters - The Bronx

Kory spent a good long while with an old favorite book on the subway to get to the Bronx. She's been doing so well finding people on the list. Even adding people. And this good mood lasts until she gets up to the Brawlers Headquarters. Rubble.

"Oh…wow." Kory drags her hands through her hair. This would explain why calling ahead didn't get her an answer. "Oh…boy…" she mutters, a bit shaken by the sudden, obvious obstacle. "Well," she says, voice carrying through the destruction with a bit of spring wind to assist. "I'm not gonna find Tyson this way. Geez. I guess I came all the way up here for nothing."

She isn't leaving, though. There's no sound of steps receding as she walks away. The Muse settles on the front steps, instead, opens her book so it looks like Kory just found an odd spot to read, and tries to reach Tyson's mind. Which will only work if he's sleeping.

A lot of time had passed since the fire and Tyson's vowing to stop visiting this rather depressing location, but he was still here. Going to school a lot more, but still here. Even his new job at EvoSoft had kept him occupied, but still it did nothing for keeping his mind of the fights he could be hosting, or participating in. Those sad thoughts in mind, there was really no other place he would rather be even if there was nothing going on. At least he did not expect there to be anything going on these days…

As such, for the boy with nothing better to do on his day off, Tyson had set himself up somewhat of a covered nook out of survived boxing rings that, despite the apparently empty area, was just off to the side of collapsed cage. Here Tyson focused on nothing but keeping himself hidden, effectively out of a world reachable by most. Except for the strangest of whispers calling out to him. At first, he thought it was Ophelia and almost sat up to look for her… but if his searching hadn't found anything yet it was beginning to look less and less likely. For that reason, he kept his eyes closed, starting to dream if he wasn't already, still feeling like someone was trying to find him instead.

Well — that turned out to be easier than planned. Casting about for Tyson's mind, Kory finds it quickly. But she watches the dream, to see what sort it is, before she makes herself visible to the dreamer. He may not want an intruder, or he may want an assist. And her presence can be shocking if she just drops right in. So she floats, invisible, on Tyson's dreamscape, to see which this is.

Tyson's conscious mind usually gave little away regarding his anxieties about life and his place in it. His subconscious mind was a different story and no sooner had the dream began to manifest for Tyson than did his self-concept, the one of his standing tall in his center ring of a stage King of his world, begin to shrink as a whirlwind blur of thoughts and feelings take up around him. This twister reminded Tyson of something, but he couldn't put his finger on it, instead the overall feeling of it did nothing but make him feel lost, alone, and forgotten. Boxing gloves swiped at his face and trying to stop them did nothing but keep him from dodging a knock to the chin than put him on back only able to look up and see nothing worth living for.

Oh, dear. Assist it is. A tornado of boxing gloves. There's a mental image. Kory concentrates, though, and the gloves turn into potato chips. Rose petals. Little bits of paper. Cocoa Puffs. Pennies. And the tornado's spin begins to slow as its source material is transformed into silly, lightweight things that aren't really worth worrying about.

"You seem kinda bummed," says Kory's voice, possibly a little bit distorted by the wind and the fact that she's still a visitor to the realm of Tyson's dream. "Don't let the little things get you down."

And the twister throwing fists actually stopped for a moment to become something else, some thingS else as the boxing gloves turned into things that just confused Tyson as they fell around him. These were not things he usually thought about, they didn't matter… so he thought. Then he heard a voice, it sounded like Ophelia's again, but still… he didn't get up. "Little things, huh?" He replied, wanting to laugh, but in no way having the humor in him. "Like letting you slip out of my fingers? Like not being able to keep bad things from happening to people who had nothing to do with them in the first place?"

The ring now began to shift, growing ever more expansive, the edges spread out further from Tyson in all directions actually starting to fold up in all directions. Posts springing up around the sides starting to looking imposing like teeth with Tyson still in the middle, seemingly indifferent to it all.

"Yes," Kory insists, "Little things. And just because something's slipped through your fingers doesn't mean you can't hold it again. There's no rule about doing better on another try, right? So yeah, it's little if you want it to be little. It's little if you decide it is."

The posts of the ring remain posts, but they look less like teeth. More like fenceposts, leading toward a brightly lit road. And from the shadows, silhouetted by the light, walks a figure that looks nothing at all like Ophelia. "Plus, I think you have me mistaken for somebody else. You probably wanna save that speech for her."

The ring's posts start to shrink and not back to their original forms, but to those of something he only expected to see in a home and garden magazine. Then there was a flux of light, exuberant, warm, and this attracted Tyson's attention, still he did not move, his back still on the mat. Reality having been kicked to the curb, the mat with his floor on the back of it, began to roll the boy up to his feet to the point where he was standing watching the figure come towards him. At first, he still thought it to be Ophelia… as it got closer it looked like his mom… closer still and Tyson couldn't figure out who the heck it was before finally deciding upon local comic shop manager, Kory, when they got close enough that the light was no longer distorting her image.

"Oh!?" He recoiled from the shock of being so wrong. "I-… just… wait, what's going on?"

Looking around, Tyson could no longer place himself at the remains of the headquarters… he wasn't even standing in a ring now… but a road, one that only moved in one way, forward.

"Hi!" is Kory's exuberant greeting. "Didn't mean to interrupt your feelling sorry for yourself and all, but I kind of need to talk to you. Got a minute?" She's smiling, but not mockingly. She's been there, in that dark doldrum of misery where it feels like there's nothing to live for; sometimes a hand up and out into the light is all one needs. And boy, has she got something to distract him from his blues.

"So — you're free from the whole boxing and brawling thing, I take it? Got a little free time you want to put to use for a good cause? I've got a good cause. A really good cause. And I could use your help. We all could."

Tyson couldn't help but be shocked at the situation, seeing as the person he was talking to wasn't knocking him down; but he didn't do anything dramatic to interrupt the moment, it was weird enough all ready without worrying about an incomplete dream. He did have all the time in the world now… even if he wanted to spend it all being alone and sorry.

"It's fine…? I just-" Tyson sighs, there was a question being asked now, supposing he should answer, "Yeah… I'm free. Not much boxing to be done in the BHQ these days…" And there was that offer to help, "But… what do you need help with? And… and who are you talking about 'we'? Is this-..?" There was the thought like he might know what was going on for a moment and in that moment Kory might feel the connection between the boy and herself weakning.

Oh, no. We're not gonna have the dream fade out just yet. Outside, Kory clenches her fingers around her book and concentrates.

In the dream, she flutters her lashes a bit. "Yes, it is," she confirms for him. "But that's not what I came here to talk to you about, Ty." She finishes closing the distance and throws an arm around his shoulders. "I've been asked to assemble a team. An elite team. The best there is at what they do —" She pauses. "You know, that sounded better before I said it. Let me try again. I have been asked to get people together and talking. To stop a crisis before it can happen. To well…this is gonna sound like something I sell out of the Lair, I know. But it's the truth. Promise. We're gonna save the world."

Tyson really didn't have anything to say about that. It was blunt, very surreal, and left the boy with an utmost serious situation. "Um… right… so what do you want from me? You want me to beat up some bullies? Start a few fires? I don't think you'll find me much of an 'elite' member, sorry." He shrugs, knowing his abilities but not handing the use of them over to people who only sold him comicbooks. Even if every one that seemed to hang around the Secret Lair…

"There may be some of that, yeah," Kory admits. "Beating up the bad guys. Starting the occasional fire. But that's only part of the sitch, Tyson. You're gifted besides those curls and those eyes and the whole — " she stops to mime boxing at him, then continues, " — thing. You've got a special ability. Mine's the one letting us have this conversation, but you jaunt. Teleport, right? That power would be pretty cool if everybody had it. But you know that it'd also put the FAA out of business, and they'd probably wanna stop it from happening, right? Because people'd be out of jobs. And money would be lost. Big rich dudes would have nobody to sell their planes to…" She claps a hand on Tyson's shoulder. "Sounding like a picture yet?"

Tyson caught the gist of what Kory was trying to get started, it was something he had tried to do on a small scale with the girl who had been carried off by her own tornado. He wanted to help, he really did, but anxiety was keeping him back and even Kory and all her humor was only barely chipping away at it.

"Okay, I get what you're saying but how'd you know about my-" He started to ask, secondarily realizing that he had once used that ability to get out of the store, Cam in two… "Okay, I know how you found out but…" He was flustered and wanted to wake up, but- "you mean… you need my help to keep others from being like us? I see how that's a good thing, but what about us? Are you saying we should give our abilities up too?"

Not that it's what Tyson really wanted, but he could definitely see how a lot of problem could be solved… and started… "I don't know, this is a lot to handle. Besides, my teleporting is hardly very useful. Miles are out the question, and going city blocks isn't that helpful when I can't see where I'm going… I'm sorry. I don't know if I'll be of much help to you." He was actively trying to wake himself up now, if nothing else, glad that he had a dream that didn't end up with him being carried off like Ophelia had been.

"You're not alone, and neither am I," Kory tells Tyson, seeing his concerns, and going accordingly serious. She can sense his desire to wake, and steps back from him. "We can have this conversation while you're awake, if you're more comfortable, Tyson, but it's not just me. It's a bunch of us. All working together. At least, that's the plan."

She begins walking toward the sunlight again. Toward the road that only leads forward. "We're not giving ours up, but it's not a world that's ready for everybody to have these abilities. And that's what we're trying to stop. A world nobody's ready for — not us, not them. But if you're scared, or have other irons in the fire, I understand." She lifts a hand in farewell, stepping out of immediate light so that she's back in silhouette, obviously planning to let him back into his own unadulterated dream, or to wake as he sees fit.

Tyson's waking mind held onto the words Kory spoke, even as he was no longer seeing the dreamworld or the light that had been walked into. The words she spoke rang deep into his subconscious turn conscious as he opened his eyes, thankful that whatever hold had been over him faded. Waking up undercover of boxing rings, Tyson peeked up and at the sky through the cracks in the self-made structure that was no longer hidden in plain sight. "Working together…" It had a nice ring to it, could it ever really happen. "People with powers wokring together…" It was a really good idea.

As for being awakened now, Tyson only had need to crawl out of the would-be teepee and embrace the world around him. He didn't have any homework, but now had no desire to just lay about. Instead he would use that teleportation ability to pay the comicbook dreamweaver a visit, quite oblivious to the fact that she was already close by.

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