Mind Over Matter

The dry and crusty sand felt coarse and crispy as it rustled through his toes. The unbearable sun was just beginning to subside with one glittering massive orb seizing its reign. A gust of wind brushed sand particles across his legs, his cloak slithering across the air in tandem with the dust. A foul stench of disparity haunted the air and lingered in his nostrils. So foul in fact, that it left a remarkably vile taste upon the tongue. It ran shivers down his spine once his ruby orbs spotted it. A decrepit little village off in the distance, shrouded in a miasma of dull fog and shielded by fields of dry grass and sand. The core of this miasma was practically empty. Rotting and rickety buildings housing less then a handful of townsfolk is all the population could muster up.

Being a stranger, once he arrived at the village he received not a warm welcome. He received no welcome, in fact. Not a single soul dared leave there dwelling. Gazing lenses peered at the visitor through dim and shattered glass. A palpable sense of suspicion and dread clouded the atmosphere. The shrouded figure paused for a moment and gazed back. His eyes were murky and dull, almost like the blank and faceless waters of the ocean as they reflected the onlookers through ruby red lenses, as the only visible feature of this yet formless creature apart from his jagged gnarled teeth. The figure looked away from the frightened souls and instead turned his sphere of attention towards a battered and mildewy old sign which read simply as "Welcome to Destiny Rock". The red orbs glowed brighter then before, as if taking some form of malign pleasure in the name. "Dee." the clouded figure hissed, causing a jolt amongst the onlookers. "Dee." Once more the creature hissed. It's ruby lenses flashing into a hue of maroon, and it's cloak fluttering across the trodden path. "Dee." An aura of purple shrouded the figure, twinkling and glittering in the air. "Dee is for Destiny!"



The unwanted creature found itself remaining through the night. Drifting aimlessly through the sand. Once dawn had finally returned, the creature meandered to a curious little establishment "Bea's General Goods". The creature stared blankly at the the shop's rickety old sign as it creaked with the wind. It rocked side to side, mother nature swaying it's rusty chain too and fro. His eyes remained lit a hue of red "Dee"

The owner, an elderly lady named Beatrice was just opening up. She had a shrewd expression, her lips were puckered with a bit of gloss painted to them. Her hair was greyish white and curled, and her eyes were a demanding presence, glossed with its own makeup. She wore an old grey pantsuit and was laced with jewelry which she could clearly no longer afford. The elderly owner was just wiping down the counter as the creature ambled in. She was visibly exhausted, and hid by her side a grandson with similar exhaustion. Her eyes pierced the creature as soon her door opened, narrowing at it with grey pupils. "That was quite the light show you put on last night, wasn't it?" She confronted the beast, but it gave no response. She could see no features under its cloak and hood. The only discernible features were glowing red eyes, and a ruby dangling around its neck. She brought her child close to her side, and continued confronting the beast, which only wandered and lurked around her measly little store. "You don't talk much, do you?" Its face darted towards her upon her last remark, yet still she could only detect its lustrous ruby lenses. Holding her ground, she narrowed her eyes ever more as it raised a spindly finger from its cloak. It was a noticeably frail and gnarled finger, with a skin texture that somehow looked moist yet shriveled at the same time. An almost charred looking stalk, with cracked and chiseled nails that were so long that some bended and contorted upon themselves. With hues of maroon and grey shading its cracks and crevices, and blisters dotting the stalks. "Apple." His spindly digit guided the lady's eyes to basket of apples which rested upon a barrel in front of her wall. "Two dollars" She demanded, and it complied, reaching into its cloak the creature plopped a single small purse to the counter. She eyed both creature and purse cautiously, grabbing the small sack and dumping its contents to the counter. There were indeed two silver dollars, amongst dead insects and dust mites. She accepted the cash nonetheless, and placed a juicy red apple to the mahogany of her counter. The creature snatched the apple almost immediately, and bared its fangs into the skin. It tore through the apple with an unexpected amount of savagery and truculence. It's teeth sunk into the fruit, splattering a mucousy concoction of saliva and juices across the oak floors. It looked almost ravenous as it shredded the fruit to pieces. It bore its teeth through another patch of skin, shredding through its prey until it reached the point of no more succulence, and all that remained was a battered and beaten core. The shop owner winced at the nauseating display of ferocity, as if it were some feral beast which hadn't an ounce of food in weeks. The creature belched, and wiped it's face with handkerchief from its cloak. He dropped the core down and simply hobbled away from the establishment with a reserved "Thank you."



Word spread like a ravaging fire about the creature, and it's overall repulsive tendencies. Why had it still remained? What did it want? Why wouldn't it just go away? And most importantly, how was it still alive? Things roamed the village at night.... Unnatural things. The village's most recent memory was one of said things ripping poor old Paul to shreds, and feasting upon its corpse.... Poor Beatrice was still grieving to this day... But how could this creature have survived any encounter? These thoughts were especially prevalent in a man named Herbert Howards. He was the an elected official of sorts, could have been considered mayor of the town. He was a gaunt figure, his head was often comparable to a horse. His hair was silvery, and combed to one side. He more then often appeared to be a sourpuss, in fact, it was a miracle how anyone like him could've become an elected official. He wasn't particularly charismatic, and often a shut in, yet somehow he'd made an excellent leader for the town in these strange times. His scrambled thoughts ceased upon the creature shambling into his tavern. He was wiping over his counter, but his eyes immediately shot up. His wife, Shelley had just been attempting to remove the local drunk, her eyes shot up as well. "Don't know how you've survived out there these past few nights... But you'd best take shelter somewhere, we've been havin' some.... Disturbances lately" Herbert was ominous in his warning, and was much less for conversation. His wife however, glanced a dirty look towards him, and fabricated a conversation where there was none "Say, what brings you to our little corner of the west anyway?" The creature gave no response, they weren't even sure it even heard them. It wandered it's head across the rafters, and to the walls, and jumped from table to table. It left an uncomfortable aura disparity and confusion about the room, yet for the sake of pleasantries Shelley pressed on, with her husband darting his eyes unsettlingly at both. "Well, ya got any reason to stay?"

"I'm gonna parasitically leech on your dreams and nightmares." the creature announced in a rather dry tone. Neither Herbert nor Shelley knew how to reply, and instead one gave a simple "Uuh..."

"But I can't... My Mat-er-i-opt-ti-kon won't work on you" the creature continued, contemplating in his own twisted mind what was wrong with his precious gem "....."

"Bout time! Take me home, God!" Teddy, the drunk, chimed in, ceasing the tense and awkward silence. "I'm a supervillain" The creature shrugged, simply ignoring the drunkard and continuing on. "Right..."

"Why's your brain so topsy-turvy?"

"We've all been having trouble sleeping lately"

"Mmm..." The creature took only the briefest of moments to ponder the situation. With little thought nor effort, the creature gripped the sides of a rickety old chair, and smashed it over Herbert's skull. He fell unconscious immediately. "Are you crazy?!"" Shelley cried out in a panic. "What? He's asleep now, isn't he?" a shriek came from outside, and both parties darted an eye out the window. In a frenzied panic, Shelley went to bar the door, whilst Teddy huddled his hands over his hair.

It was a pulsating moist humanoid mass of what appeared to be black tar. It oozed and gurgled, lurching about as though it were in pain. It's torso was lined with jagged fangs, and foul smelling rubbery gums that wreaked of curdled milk. It's eyes were blank white orbs that fluttered and blinked in and out of existence. A writhing and wiggling pair of tentacles slouched and stretched from its neck, one of which held another white orb as though it were a third eye.
"Woooow!" The creature declared, like a child gawking at fish in the aquarium, he pressed his face to the murky glassy window and admired.... It... Whatever it, was. As an experiment, the creature brought his Materioptikon to Herbert's skull, expecting it, to become exterminated immediately. "What are you doing?!" Shelley hissed towards the creature, but it gave no response. Outside, it shrieked a blood curdling cry that echoed miles away. It galloped over towards the window, and smashed a gooey pulsating black fist to the window. The window cracked, and both the creature, drunkard, and mayor's wife gasped. The fangs of it's face curled and contorted in on themselves, grumbling a low growl as all gazed upon the endless void of it's eyes. The creature halted his procedure and gazed at the massive crack in the window it caused. Without warning, the foul remnant outside belched out and smeared gallons upon gallons of black stomach bile curds and chunky phlegm at the window.

A haunched and feeble looking creature stood before her. It's eyes glimmered and glistened like fire, loathing and detesting her very presence in vaguely abhorrent disgust. His cloak shielded most features from her sight, yet his eyes radiated with an intense level of both spleen and spite. From the shrouds of his cloak, a shriveled up stalk extended, with a jagged and charred crisp of a nail. It meekly tapped her sternum, with an aura of maddening unintelligible whispers radiating slurs and curses about the air. It leaned forward, and whispered softly to hear ear "We. Hate. You." It was, perhaps one of the most sincere and honest things he'd ever said. He was an honest creature, at least in this particular instance. The levels of scorn, and wrath the malevolent little creature held for a woman he'd never once meant in his entire life was.... Unprecedented. It was no her character the creature detested, mind you. Rather, it was what she stood for, her League, the very fact that she was associated with... Them. So many sporadic and vile thoughts crossed his mind... Tackling her down, and delicately wrapping his fingers around her neck... Chomping his deformed and mangled jaws hard on her nose, watching the blood spew and gush out of her nostrils like a cascade of water. In his intoxicating trance of varied ways to commit murder, it had almost forgotten about the impending danger before them. The oozing, pulsating mass of tar slumped its entire being into the building, smashing its entire body into the walls. The building jerked and shook in place. Shelley screamed, and the cloaked figure's swelling look of anger coiled into a panicked state as Teddy fell into a fetal position. The cloaked figure stumbled over, and beside him was Herbert. Herbert's body wriggled, and shook violently. His eyes fluttered around his sockets, reminiscent to a seizure. Unsure of what to do, the cloaked figure stumbled to get up, it hovered over Herbert, and in a stroke of primitive brilliance, it kicked the man in his chest thrice violently. "Up! Up! Wakey-wakey!! Get up!" As if following the figure's demands, Herbert awoke dazed and confused. He placed his hand upon his forehead, and blinked cluelessly. As he awoke, the beast below them shrieked an ungodly and agonizing scream. Like a hawk screeching as nails scratched against a rough chalkboard. It thrashed its head about violently as it oozed and bubbled across the pavement. Tar slapping from its body downwards, and it's face dissolving into into nothing. It was a horrific sight, yet one most of the villagers were used to. Nothing remained of the creature... No entrails, no bones, not even any of its tar.... As if it hadn't even originally been there... All that remained was the exterior damage it had caused to the building. The cloaked figure looked down at it in fascination, and tangible nightmare uncontrollable by his Materioptikon... He wished to study this phenomenon more closely...

"Ung.... What happened?" Herbert declared groggily, placing his hand over his head. Outraged, Shelley pointed at the figure and shouted, as if expecting this new lady to do something "He did this!!" the figure popped his head up like a meerkat, turning to face the accuser, he said simply. "Irrelevant." The declaration had not gone over well, with Shelley... "Irrelevant!? That madman just beat my husband with a chair!" Her voice raised once more in outrage. The figure stepped backwards in a defensive stance, now desperately attempting to discredit her most heinous accusations "Helping! Helping! We were helping him!!" Struggling to get back on topic, the creature pointed outwards, towards the very reason he's summoned this new player.



He gestured towards the once vibrant village of Destiny Rock, now a destitute wasteland of death and ruin. Battered buildings and tattered hovels blanketed the dry and torn dirt like a sheet. Many of which were dilapidated and in both disrepair and disuse. As if miniature hurricanes came rustling through and shredding it all to bits several times over. A rickety old church clock tower sat nestled in the center of it all, with a cult of ignominious homes planted radially across the desert. A small congregation of less then thirty swarmed the town square, whispering, clamoring, and staring blankly at the figures above them. In both admiration and trepidation, as if viewing the visage of gods. A gust of wind blew towards the pair. The figure's cloak echoed through the breeze, waving off behind him. It revealed a tattered striped uniform, black and white. It was an Arkham jumpsuit, lacking any shoes.

It could've been the horrific stench of Dee's rotting flesh. It could've been the smoldering ectoplasmic discharge of whatever entity thrashed about the streets. Or even the palpable aura of embittered pique culminating the entirety of Destiny's being... But the air was heavy, as though a ten ton crate weighed down over all surrounding acres. Dee's blank, yet ferociously feral glare only heightened the feeling of tense angst looming across those within the general vicinity of these "gods". Contempt, now left to simmer inside him, was very quickly metamorphosing into a very spiteful boiling. His eyes glew a blazing maroon, with a vacant expression leaving his mouth agap. Saliva dribbled and dripped from his lips and slithered down his cloak, which shimmered and fluttered in place paranormally. "They forgot..." he faintly whispered "She forgot..." his hushed voice was whisked through the wind. "Forget... Forget me...." his robes fluttered about far more rapidly, a vicious conduit for the creature's rage. "Forgot my destiny..." the dust and sand around them twirled and danced around his toes "Forget John... Deeeeeee...." The hood of his cloak at long last faltered. A grotesquely hideous and shriveled creature which remained hidden underneath revealed itself. His skin was quaggy and moist and looked as though it was made up entirely of cyst riddled curds of tenderly gibbous flesh. Yet, the mucousy texture of tissue also appeared dry, like a husk. Shriveled and dead skin plastered almost painfully over muscle and marrow. Scabs and scars riddled the exterior film of flesh, especially concentrated around his pulsating and unnaturally bulbous eyes. Many an optic surgery had been performed on Dee in Arkham supposedly to remedy some optic turmoil, these surgical scars lined and sprawled across his brows and cheeks, writhing and wriggling about with every twitchy grin. He was now completely incapable of blinking, all that remained around his two bulbous rubies were scars and scratches amongst flakes of skin dangling over where eye lids had long ago once lied. So mangled, in fact were his sleep deprived peepers, that not only did bone and marrow proudly present itself for the general audience, but so did moist and mushy tags of muscle struggling to hold his eyes in place. Equally as hideous were his charred and chipped lips curling into some slimey and sleazy grin, contrasting entirely with blazing fury igniting within him "I'll smear my name over your smoldering corpse... Heh. Heh-heh-heh-heh." As of not even registering the severity of the threat he just made, John graciously clasped his clammy and withering hand with hers, both his hand in fact, and proceeded with a very violent and forceful handshake. "Hee-hee! Friends! You! Me! My rock! All friends!! Heh-heh! A friendship! Best ship-shape ship that ever sailed the seven seas! Aha-hah-hah!" Like a child, John anxiously jumped in place with a juvenile chanting "Lbrary! Library! Library" he declared, reminiscent to a spoiled child demanding a toy, or fast food "Library! Library! Library!" his tantrum grew more violent, not towards others, rather, an assault on the very ground (or roof in this case) they stood on. So violent in fact, that no longer was he hopping in place, his movement became eradic, pulling Zatana's along with him. "Library! Come!" He hopped here, he hopped there, he hopped everywhere, all across that scaffolding. "Come! Come! Come!" He bellowed another declaration to her, until finally, John's tantrum got the better of both of them, his manic springing eventually led both of them to the edge of the roof, Zatanna likely having attempted to interject several times, though only to fall towards deaf ears. John's feet danced by the ledge, until finally small bite of stone, faltered and fell. They were only pebbles, but it was just enough for Dee to falter and fall with a twirl, dragging Zatanna tumbling down with him. "Come! Come! Coooooooome~" Destiny face planted into the dirt and grass below them, a small cloud of dust dancing and lingering around him "Unf....."

The congress of townsfolk had taken a step back as Destiny and Zatanna took their tumble. They could only stare, a tired and almost mindless congregation of tired, looming, and decrepit figures. The herd of locals had little animation to them, almost dead looking with eyes no longer vibrant and lively. Just dead. Not even humored by John's own clumsiness, which even he, found himself snickering over only seconds after. Patting the dust and grass stains of his Arkham attire, John gleefully clasped Zatanna's hand without a moments notice, and scurried off between the crowds in a southerly direction "This way! This way" the husk jovially decreed. Puckering her lips, the shrewd and cynical Beatrice laBlanche was the only one of the crowd to correct Destiny's directional error, crossing her arms and pointing with her thumb in the opposite direction of the pair. "Actually, the library's in that direction...." One enthusiastic U-turn later, John and Zatanna were now headed in a northerly direction "That way! That way!"



John pranced and danced about with an enlivened aura about him. He tugged and dragged at the mistress of magic's arm like an eager and impatient toddler. His bare feet charged through the village's trodden dirt trail with a sense of authority and purpose. Passing the odd hut and hovel, left of the diner and around the old dilapidated windmill. He lead the charge without any real sense of direction, occassionally even going around in a circle. The silence between them was brief, but no less awkward. In some vain attempt towards small talk, Dee finally attempted a conversation ""So... My mother died recently..." Dee remarked uncomfortably "I blame you" he did little to keep his animosity towards Zatanna a secret. Even when he seemed relatively cheerful. Giving her little time to give a proper interjection, Dee changed the subject "Any way... Do you have any idea what that was!?" His enthusiasm sky rocketed on the subject, he always did love clamoring on about his ideas and theories "A corporeal manifestation of that man's nightmares!!" the very idea made his spine tingle with anticipation, a man's dreams actually becoming corporeal, tangible creatures on our plane of existence... It was all far too exciting for the deranged doctor. "Dreams don't normally do that, they usually stay in there own little world - out there - away from us... Wish I was there" Doctor Destiny continued simply chattering away, almost mindlessly, just regurgitating whatever words came to his addled and crazed mind. "Only special... Special things can make them do that... Like my special stone..." the Materioptikon gave a sinister red glow, as if on cue. John let go of his captive's hand to clasp his shimmering ruby, stealing deeply into it. Hardly even paying attention to the trail in front of him, he gave only a lustful and salacious ire towards the shimmering red gem "My mat-mat-mat-ter-i-opt-ti-kon can almost do that, but... My... My... Precious... Beautiful... S-Sultry... Stone, isn't strong enough" shaking his mind off such thoughts, Destiny dropped let the ruby drop and dangle inside his asylum uniform, shifting his attention back towards this new friend of his, he began galloping backwards to face the magician as he spoke "They called me crazy-heh heh! Said dreams can't come to life... I told them... I told them! I told them! I told them!! Heh-heh-heh-heh!" Once more, the deviant doctor's scrambled mind changed the subject, now offering his friend to play a game as they strolled "Hey! Let's play a game! What does Dee stand for? Me first! Me first!" He already had so many answers, so many words he hummed to the tune of his whilst under lock up... So... So many... "Dee is for death... Dee is for deviant... Dee is for...." The skeletal figure paused mid sentence. His teeth and tongue were salivating a slimy and almost mucous like saliva around his lips, slathering around his face with an almost erotic pleasure "Decapitation..." He went cold and distant for a brief period, that is until they at long last stumbled upon a quant little structure aptly titled "Library".

The library was, as expected, quiet and still. One could here a pin drop or a mouse squeak amongst the silent aroma spewing across the building. Books and shelves littered across several rooms and walls, sprawling as for as the eye could see. In the very front, near the entrance was a desk. Standing there, tranquilly perusing the pages of Brahm Stoker's most infamous book, was the Librarian and proprietor of that establishment, Lamydia Bankers. She was a quiet and recluse member of the town, and often kept away from the troubles and drama of town meetings and such. She was a middle-aged lady, well in her mid-fifties. Her hair was frizzled, yet kept in a bun and her skin was of a caramel or chocolate hue. She wore a purple scarf and blue pantsuit, with a small dress just underneath. Angular purple glasses finishing off her apparel. She was a shrewd and stern woman, yet also relatively stubborn in nature. Her and Beatrice would often bicker over the smallest of topics, though they never once avoided one another. Her abode was invaded by Destiny and Zatanna rather abruptly, with little regard for library rules and regulations, he swung the door open with a smash, sprinting past the counter and screaming "BOOK!! BOOK!! WHERE IS IT!? BOOK!"

"What book!? H-hey!!" Was the only response she could muster up from this creature's sudden arrival. Disregarding her rather lackluster reply, before she had even uttered it, John lumbered about, thrashing through various tomes and books with little regards for the Dewey Decimal System. The mess he caused scrambling through these shelves was quite significant actually, books of Dahl, Dain, and Dale all callously tossed to the side, until finally he'd reached a Dee. John Dee specifically, a large hard cover compendium of Dr. John Dee's ostracized life work, aptly titled "Mind Over Matter: Dreams and the Dreamscape". "Yes!! Yes!! I find it!! We found it!! It's mine!! Mine mine mine!! SEE!?" After dancing jovially, Destiny warmly and tightly embraced the book to his chest. As though he was reunited with a childhood stuffed bear, he squeezed it tightly, and silently. Quietly embracing his only remaining tether to a life long since past. Slowly, his enthusiasm once again peaked. He slammed it on a large mahogany table, and scampered through the pages. "Here! Dreams can only manifest into the corporeal realms when anchored by an artifact, object, or creature of immense supernatural power.... My pretty - pretty - precious ruby isn't strong enough... Hee-hee-hee, we just have to - Wait a minute.... Do you hear that?" Dee paused briefly, his eyes darting too and fro anxiously trying to identify the buzzing in his ears "It sounds like it's coming from outside...."