NOT LIKE THE OTHER GUYS ☆ nightmare + outburst

[roan ;]

[div style="width: 45%; text-align: justify; font-size: 12pt; letter-spacing: -1px; font-family: times new roman;"]♡ — It was not the first time that he had ended up here. No, in fact, it was far from the first time, really. For months he had ended up here, in a beautiful wooded forest, carrying a scent he couldn't quite place and sporting a sky that was constantly changing – a constantly shifting blanket of stars and colors far above. In addition to this seemingly perfect backdrop, there was always one person around. Another feline, much older than Roan, and much more mundane as well. His fur was a light blue tabby pattern, and his eyes were an even lighter grey color, with many secrets hidden away within them. His fur was marred with what looked like ages old scars, and the graying areas around his cheeks betrayed his age. Every time Roan arrived at the forest and saw him, he seemed more and more faded, with his form clouded at the edges, like he was no longer meant to be. The old cat had said – many months ago, when these dreams had started happening – that his name was Musicbox, and expanded upon his statement minimally when Roan had first commented what an odd name that was, just nodding his head and letting out a soft 'mm.'

It was not always the forest that Roan dreamt about. Sometimes he dreamt about fast paced scenes of action and misery, and he'd hear voices shouting in his ears or bodies pressing up against his side, familiar mouths saying familiar words that were also somehow so very foreign. They always called him by the old cat's name, even though that didn't make any sense. Musicbox this, and Musicbox that. Well, he wasn't Musicbox. He was him. He was Roan. The dreams never ceased to annoy him, making him want to screech and roar in anger when yet another person on the very edges of his mind called him by the wrong name, talking about the wrong places and mentioning the wrong events. He missed the Typhoon, and his mama, and his siblings, and his uncles. He wasn't meant to be in those dreams. That wasn't him... was it?

---

The dreams had been becoming worse as of late, the forest and the strangers inhabiting his thoughts near constantly even as he interacted with other crewmates and went out into the day. The nightmares were haunting him, and all he wanted was for them to stop. Occasionally he was blessed with a night or two, where he was just himself, and he slept through the night without a single disturbance or worry. However, those nights were becoming fewer and farther between, and it seemed as though things were only growing worse. Sometimes the dreams were... set off. Triggered by circumstances of the day that led to him feeling his skin itch and his heart ache. Today had been one of those days, mainly thanks to none other than Roxanne Roux. Although his mama was always there for him, Roan had been keeping his nightmares a secret from her, not wanting her to worry about him. Unfortunately, her unhappiness triggered unhappiness in him as well.

He had thought everything had been fine, when he had gotten up to the usual household of others that was bustling within Roxie's home. His mother had seemed happy, and he had been happy for her. However, by the time the night came around, she was looking out the window again, a pained look in her eyes and a sad smile on her face. When he went over to her and pressed gently into her side, she had just smiled that same sorrow filled smile at him, touching her nose to his head and bidding him goodnight, reassuring him that she was fine. He didn't believe her. He knew that Greed's disappearance had caused more pain for her than any of them could realize, but he still did as he was told, nuzzling his mother's shoulders before he headed off to his bedroom. He was trying to be strong, but an all too familiar itch dug beneath his skin, persisting even as he curled up in bed and closed his eyes, praying for a silent, restful sleep.

He knew his prayers hadn't been answered when he opened his eyes and was surrounded by trees, staring into a sky filled with ever moving galaxies. A choked off sob left him as he stumbled to his paws, looking around until he spotted whom he was looking for. The old cat, Musicbox, lounging away on a log as usual, his eyes closed and his body relaxed. Roan was so tired of being stuck in these dreams, and Musicbox looked so utterly peaceful as he napped away, as if he had never dreamt once in his life... Roan couldn't help it. He blew up. His voice echoed through the trees as he screamed, getting right up in Musicbox's face and shouting at the top of his young lungs, "You! Why am I here?! Why is this happening to me?! I'm tired of this! I'm tired of all of it! I just want to sleep, and not have to worry about stories that aren't mine! Why... why is this happening to me?" His voice grew quiet in the end, tears clouding his vision as he looked down at his paws, body trembling.

After Roan's outburst ended, Musicbox finally opened his eyes, the old feline's gaze focusing upon the trembling boy in front of him. He sighed, and as he shifted utop his log, his pelt seemed to shimmer and fade at the edges, blending into the backdrop of the forest. His voice was hoarse when he spoke, looking down at Roan, "Child... have you really not figured it out yet? You haven't seen why you're here? Why you keep returning? I pegged you for smarter than this..." Roan sniffled as Musicbox looked down at him in disappointment, the apprentice opening his mouth to speak only to get cut off, "If you really can't figure it out on your own... I suppose I'll just have to enlighten you." When he finished speaking, the tabby leaned down, touching his nose to Roan's forehead before the draconic feline could get a word out in protest.

The boy wasn't sure what he had been expecting when Musicbox leaned in, but it wasn't the explosion of pain that came afterwards. It wasn't the shriek that left his lungs as images filled his head, moving too blisteringly fast for him to even begin to nake sense of them. There were just... voices. So many voices. Talking quietly, talking normally, screaming at the top of their lungs... there was pain. So much pain. In all of his limbs, dragging down his sides, like claws had been dug in and raked down his young body. So many memories that were all so foreign yet all so heartbreakingly familiar all at once that the boy could hardly take it, collapsing onto the grass covered ground. Tears streamed down his cheeks, wetting his fur as he wailed, watching the shape of Musicbox blur and twist until there was nothing left but the backdrop of the forest, the old tom having faded fully away. As quickly as the rush of memories had come, it was gone, replaced instead with a suffocating sense of nothing. No voices, no landmarks, no faces... just nothing. Nothing but the wind around him and the trees above him, and a child sobbing in the middle of the starry forest.

---

When Roan woke up, he did not do so quietly. A wail left his mouth as soon as he shot up, deafening in the completely silent house, everyone else still blissfully snoring away. There were still tears staining his cream and blue pelt, only now they were very much a reality, making him tremble and hiccup. The apprentice wasn't sure what his plan was when he stumbled from his bed, but all he knew was that he needed to get out. He needed to get away from everything, and everyone. The air felt thick and far too dry, and he could've sworn he felt sparks dancing along his skin, beneath his fur, and between his teeth. He only remained inside long enough to grab his satchel, snatching the leather handle in his jaw before he burst free of the house, closing the door behind him without much care. He knew that he wasn't doing a good job of not attracting attention to himself, but he didn't truly dwell on that, just moving down the steps and out onto the beach.

He only got so far down the beach before it all became too much, his body collapsing and his chest hitting sand, loud sobs leaving him. He pulled his paws to his face, covering it as he trembled and wailed, the air around him growing thicker and thicker. The sparks along his skin had grown larger, evolving into jolts of pure energy and arcs of electricity curling off his fur and arcing between his gums and teeth. The boy seemed as though he was an overcharged battery, with electrical energy spilling violently out, triggered by the dreams and memories that he had been enduring for so long. Between his sobs came out soft, reassuring words, uselessly muttered to himself in an attempt to calm down even as everything collapsed inward and burst outward, "I'm me! I'm me... I'm me! This is me! I'm not anybody else! Stop... stop... please..." He didn't want anybody coming near him, not wanting to have them see him in his current destroyed state, especially not with the energy spilling forth.

( italics is dreamworld + tl;dr: roan has been having nightmares and strange dreams about old reincarnation memories for weeks and had an especially bad one after seeing his mother sad. overwhelmed, he woke up screaming and ran out to the beach, where he's now trembling and sobbing while surrounded in electricity
please don't post until [member=901]ROXANNE R.[/member] and [member=11110]OCTANE.[/member] do! )
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[OCTANE.]

He didn't dream often. Octane had the worst circadian rhythm known to man and an equally bad diet, lending him to staying awake for horrible hours. He tended to go to sleep at 0200 to 0400 and woke at 0900-1200. He hated sleeping in that late, it meant he was wasting time when he could be doing something fun.
He was on the beach now, testing adjustments to his legs on the sand. He was trying to figure out a better way to walk on the loose earth. His legs dug in the wrong way and he was constantly fighting to drag his back half through the sand. He was outside, now, as Caustic was asleep in his hut and he didn't want to wake the scientist. Normally, he would be too delighted to do so, as a quick death would follow and Octane would get some fucking rest.
The few times he had dreamed since arriving here, they were always weird. A mix and match of human and animal, sometimes Octane wasn't sure which body he was in and he... didn't know how to feel about that. When he brought it up to Caustic, the wolf informed him he was always human in his own dreams. Octane weighed it over in his head; he was far more comfortable in human form, because that's who he was, but the things he could do now? The ways Caustic could kill him now were far more violent, but they couldn't do it. Octane could only dream of reaching these speeds back in the ring, and Caustic's venom was so sexy. Chitters and chirps leave his throat at the idea, his legs shaking back and forth. Octane rolls his shoulders as he locks his right leg into place, knocking out all of the sand and settling himself back on the ground. Okay. Ready.
He flips his goggles down, watching as a body dashes out of Roxie's house and tumbles down the beach, till it stops in a a bundle.
Oh?
The cheetah approaches, his legs digging into the sand like shovels and dragging along. Oh!! This is the kid from he joined! He spoke spanish too! He looked upset at the moment, even dangerous to touch... but that was fine. Octane had put his hand in open flames before. "Ey, Amigo," he starts, stepping close to the boy and reaching out a paw to touch him, "Are you alright?"

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