Baseline [ 5 ] A - 1 ]

-- Baseline [ 5 ] [ Rewrite ] [ A - 1 ] - Links that do not belong. --

	"Okay, so please, for the love of my sanity and everything else I hold dear, can you explain just what the hell is going on?"

	That was you. You were freaking out.

	"Okay, let's keep it short for sanity's sake. Make sure to listen to what I'm saying, alright? Not a word of it will be a lie, so don't go and say that I'm making it all up. Because you saw it yourself."

	That was Cameron. He was also currently having a bit of a blood pressure spike, but he seemed to be handling the whole ordeal better than you were. Somehow. Hell, he -shot- someone, yet he was trying to keep -you- calm. Not exactly the most expedient method of keeping someone's mind from running off a cliff, waving a pistol around while driving a car with his free hand.

	There was a bit of laughter that sprung up from some nervous part of you. "I'm listening. Just get on with it."

	Seconds ticked by as Cameron seemed to gather his words, silence wearing down as the car's tires crunched against the dirt and rock of the back road they treaded. It was night, a half-moon climbing the sky, with few thin clouds failing to block the pale moonlight. The vents gave heat that smelled like dust while gradually building into a not-too-unpleasant stuffiness, compared to the chill of the night.

	"You're like me. Weird stuff is happening, and you can see it, not even going to ask because otherwise you wouldn't be here." He laughed, somehow relaxing despite the circumstance. "By that, being like me, I mean you're an anomaly. Not unlike the guy I shot, but also not like him at all. He's a run-of-the-mill Stander. Stands back up from anything. We're... reality benders."

	You heard and felt the pause, knowing the question he expected you to ask. "Reality what now?"

	"Benders. We bend reality to our will. Of course, it's hard because reality is a stubborn bastard and doesn't like being manhandled, but for us, it's still doable."

	"I'm still not following," you said, fixated on the world outside of the windows. "We... change stuff?"

	Saying that with such an unsure tone dragged more laughter from your friend. "Yep. That's, well, that's how it works. We change stuff, as you so simply put it. What it is, the way it works, what it does to other things... Changing stuff." His jovial tone dwindled but never quite faded completely. "So, anyway, we're heading to the library. -The- library. Nice place, home to people like us and others. You're going to need a new name, by the way. They call me 'Reader'. Not, well, because of the whole library situation, but because I can tell what something does by looking at it, reading it. Anomalies are words to me, sentences stating what they're meant to do just floating around the thing in question."

	"Oh, so you see shit too?" Though it sounded different from your own experience. They were like lines, threads, links, something going somewhere, which wasn't quite known to you.

	"Words. Hence the name. Reader. Can't call me Cameron once we go in there," he warned. "Now, well, what do you see? What sort of thing am I dealing with here?"

	Staring at your phone caused the threads to bloom out, with the hint of darkness that Mal0's lines seemed to carry framing their light. Lines? Threads? Links? Something. "See-through floating lines. Weird colors, maybe like threads. Little links tying the weird shit together. I've got the feeling I can mess with them somehow. I think I did before, actually."

	"Threads? Hmm." Cameron paused for a while, seemingly focused on driving.

	You didn't recognize the scenery in the slightest. Considering you've only been out and about around the town, not really any further, it was understandable. The question came to mind of, well, why you never went out to do anything. There was an entire world out here, hell, entire other realities, and you've only been to a few places in your entire life. Your family wasn't but a few towns over, mother, father, siblings, and hell, your grandparents weren't far either.

	Your friend snapped his fingers, leaving one hand on the steering wheel and making you just a little bit nervous. "Liner! No, that's, well, that sounds terrible. Sorry."

	Staring at the ceiling of the car, scrutinizing the little fluff that lined the surface, you didn't do much but shrug in reply. Lines, threads, twine, sewing, stitching, weaving- "Weaver." You've heard it many a time before. The dragon gave you the name before it all came to a head. You simply mumbled again, "Weaver...?"

	[ That sounds suitable, ] chimed your phone. Your blood pressure spiked through your skull for the half-second it took to realize that Cameron, or, well, Reader, already knew about Mal0. [ Threads and weaving go together, correct? ]

	Cameron nodded in agreement. "Sounds about right, yeah. Weaver. It's got a good tie-in to your sight." A snicker followed his words. "Sorry. Couldn't help it."

	The slighest amount of static escaped your phone, rhythmic, yet still irregular- goddamnit, it was laughing too. [ I apologize, but plays on words are humorous. I think. ] You took a moment to pull your phone from the pocket holding it, and then set it on the dashboard. A little set of glowing dots hovered on the screen, while a line across it vibrated with any sound it made. Odd.

	"I hate you all, but it was funny," you conceded. "So, I know the humor's going to carry us all the way there, but I'm gonna just ask, again, for sanity's sake- How long is this trip going to be?"

	"If you mean the drive," Cameron began, "A day or so."

	He sighed, expression darkening, which was quite the feat, considering the lack of light. "If you mean... how long you'll be away from home? Until you end up dead, or the Standers stop hunting us. Whichever one comes first."

	"Oh." The sound came out of your lips as something akin to a dying breath. Death of a sort, perhaps. Of an identity, a previous life. "Huh."

	It should've felt more like... something, anything. Instead, it was just holllow, a cave in your core that you knew was just your mind and body protecting you from the idea of... leaving it all behind, for real. Knowing that you were here, knowing that you'd never go back, it gave a unique feeling of hopelessness, regret, and an existential agoraphobia all woven together into some horrid tapestry detailing this particular moment.

	[ An- Weaver, are you well? ] Mal0 inquired with a gentle tone, voice nearing hesitance. You wanted to give them a hug, to reassure them that they were okay. [ Cameron, are there any amenities in this vehicle? Are there any blankets or pillows? ]

	"I brought like... a travel pillow," Cameron said. "It's in the back seat. Might've fell down when we took off out of there."

	You shrugged and reached backwards, hand feeling around the floor while you strained against the seat belt. "I'm alright." You snagged it and pulled it. It was stuck on something.

	"Careful, don't tear the damned thing," Cameron warned. No tearing sounds, thankfully, as it came loose. "It's a family heirloom."

	You looked down at the dull, brown cushion in your hands. "Are you-"

	"I'm not being serious, Weaver," he quickly states with a shake of his head. "It's a pillow. Came off my couch. Just take a nap, alright? I'll do the driving." He looked at you with a bit of concern. The guy was your damned co-worker. You barely talked to him. Why the hell was he doing this? You're supposed to be this big reality bending hoo-hah, but at the moment you feel as small as ever. And a bit tired.

	After careful consideration, you found that sleep was an appealing idea. "Right. I'll do that. 'night." Outside, the sky was empty of clouds and, with the distance from the city, light from below. The stars were cast in their absence, framing the half-depleted moon. There was no dilemma here, it was waning. Half-full, half-empty, why not just drink the damned thing? Or consider how you precisely filled a glass halfway.

	You... really should try to sleep.

	[ Goodnight, Weaver, ] the phone rang out, quieted to a non-irritating degree. [ Sleep well. ] From the words, you could almost feel the intended hug. It cares, whether you like it or not. Or maybe it's just programmed with a set amount of things that activate whenever the correct stimuli is provided. Or maybe you're just coming up with reasons to continue questioning everything, instead of sleeping like you had already decided to do not a minute ago.

	"Yeah, buddy, Get some rest, I'll get us there." Cameron, Reader, your co-worker and now anomalous partner-in-crime, continued driving without another word as your eyelids slowly gave up the fight and collapsed.

	There wasn't much else to keep you awake past that point.

	-\ The sky, the road, the light. /-

	You're standing somewhere.

	Not in the car, not in your home, but in the nearly empty void of your typical dreamscape. You fell asleep.

	"Weaver? You are asleep again, I believe." The crackling, canned voice was behind you. Mal0, again. As you turned to face them, you noted the fact that you had been standing on the edge of the platform. Which... grew. A lot.

	Dark blue stained the sky behind the wolf-like creature, while the stone remained its usual matte grey. The expanse of what appeared to be granite or something of the sort expanded by several meters across. It was much safer, really. Slight lines marked the surface of the "ground", indecipherable if they had been intended as anything but random, faint strikes against the material. Light faintly gleamed off of it all, giving a polished appearance that you didn't quite remember from last time.

	You shook your head, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of input. "I'm definitely asleep. Or... we're in a bit of a pickle." For a second, it felt like you could feel the slightest sensation of worry from your strange companion's presence. "I'm joking, joking, we're in my head or something. It's like a little interim period or something for us to talk while I'm out cold." Some of the tension went out of the creature's stance. Good. They worried too much. "What do you think of all this, anyway?"

	Mal0 cocked its head, an unsaid request for clarification. The thing was canine in nature, you could tell, least of all from its habits. All of it would be cute if it didn't resemble a hell demon. You were still getting used to seeing the skull-mask-face-thing, and the slight beads of light it had for eyes.

	"I mean... going to this place with Cameron, or Reader, or whatever we call him," you explained with hands lifted and a step forward; you had a habit of talking with your hands. With each motion, waves moved through the threads woven around Mal0's core. It... was probably awkward to be staring at it like that. "A-and moving out, probably living an entirely new life. What are you thinking about everything?"

	"You are here with me, we are moving to a new place, and there will be more to see of the world. I think I... will enjoy the circumstances, no matter what they are," Mal0 said, flaming orbs of eyes brightening by a slight degree as they stared into your own. It closed the distance between you in a few strides, arms wide open, and brought you into a warm, snug embrace. "I have said my piece, how you are the first to treat me kindly. There is nothing I would not do to stay by your side, whether it is as simple as participating in a day long drive, or being steadfast and keeping you safe during a dangerous situation. I am grateful that it is the former, and I will take pleasure in knowing that I can be here with you, for you."

	Christ.

	Warmth ran through your cheeks, and a sudden, anxious laugh escaped you. Goddamnit, why couldn't you just keep a straight face? When it looked up at you with hurt in its now-dim eyes, you shook your head and smiled. "Sorry. I'm... not used to this. People being kind and all, acting like they... uh... love me or something. Not that I mind or anything. It's nice." You stumbled more over your words in those few seconds than a phalanx of small children walking through a series of sand dunes.

	"Are you well?" it asked, pulling away enough to inspect your face, doing the same inquisitive cocking of its head it's done since you met it. After a second of silence, with your pursuit of composure and certainly not letting that wall break keeping its hold on your tongue, its eyes pulsed in... what looked like understanding. "What happened that would merit this sort of behavior?"

	The way it spoke was rather clinical, though you knew it was just an idiosyncrasy that presented itself through the creature's vocabulary. Nonetheless, it wasn't exactly comforting. You let go of it and stepped back before spitting out the thoughts you gathered.

	"It's not like I never had a caring family, or close friends, or anything like that. My father was a good man, and I keep in contact with my mom, call her like... every two weeks to see how she's doing. I've talked to a lot of friends over games and stuff of the sort, and I'd consider them close. But... beyond that, beyond the... maybe six or seven people I talk to often enough to call them closer than an acquaintance, there's almost nothing. And in terms of people like you, you know, well, there's my close family, mother and siblings. That's it."

	It was pouring out, the words, all of it, and there was naught you could to do halt yourself, so you went on.

	"I'm... really confused at the moment, with everything that's happening, and I wouldn't doubt that you're going to be one of a few, if even that many, people I can rely on, and I'll do the same for you. I... fuck, I really have no idea if I'm saying anything right, or if I sound like an ass, but I mean-"

	Mal0 stopped your words short with a raised, clawed finger. The bone-like tip gleamed in the darkening light provided by the sky, and it trembled, with whatever emotion or reason you didn't know. "I... believe I understand. You do not have to continue, if you do not want to. I can hear the anxiety in your voice, and I believe it may be best to order your words and thoughts if you wish to say something serious, that way, you will not be burdened with constant worry in regards to making the right or wrong message."

	Goddamn.

	"You're... right about that." You really needed to not bust wide open like that. Especially in front of one of the two people you could probably trust in this new life of yours. Shit would be fucked, otherwise. "Do... you just... want to sit here and talk about something else?"

	"What would you like to discuss?" it asked. Seemingly, it knew when to drop the topic. Mal0 lowered itself into a sitting position a meter away from the edge of the platform, on the east side, towards the low sun, away from the high moon. "How about... this place? How did it come to be?"

	"Well..." You managed to get yourself seated next to it. The edge of the platform wasn't as terrifying as it used to be, and this place was not nearly as lonely. Mal0 being here made it all a little more comfortable, really. With the Dragon gone, it had been a striking, gaping feeling of absence. Now... not so much. Perhaps it was partly due to the chance you could find your friend, save them from whoever their captors were. That could also be a factor.

	Mal0 looped an arm around your back and slid closer, holding you in their warmth and resting their head on your shoulder. "Well?"
	Hesitation was your reaction for a moment. Then, you settled into their arms. They were here for you. Rebuking the gesture could very well give the wrong message, too. "I... was about eight when I started... coming here? Would that be the right term to use?"

	"If it functions, then yes."

	"Works well enough. My parents weren't concerned with it when I brought it up. They just said it was from me reading or watching fantasy stuff. I believed them, but every time I came back here, every week or so at that point, I sought out the dragon, and they clung to the edge of this thing, where we're sitting, and talked to me. About what, I don't really remember, not until I showed up here every night, when I was... eleven. I kept it from my parents, saw how it worried them when I brought it up. Reoccurring dreams typically show mental illness, you know. Kinda... decided it wasn't the best idea to keep talking about it."

	"That is kind of you, to bear your own burdens, despite the worrying."

	"I tried. They had enough to worry about, given all the shit going on back then. But... the dragon started telling me stories. Stories about weird things, about stuff that didn't make sense at that age. A different world, with the same people, with incredible things happening behind the veil of normalcy. I knew how the world worked, at least the one I lived in. The things they said, it changed my outlook, made me question everything."

	Mal0 gave their signature head-cocking, curious look. "Strange. It seems that you have always known of my world. Or, it is possible, in the least. Is that why you did not cast me away?"

	"Probably. I don't know. I've been one for the weird and fictional for a while now. I loved crazy stories as a kid, always had my face in a book, or my hands on a controller. Maybe I'm just acclimated to the idea of there being more to the world. I... did get used to you being around pretty quickly. And I'm more shocked about leaving everything behind than I am suddenly learning of another world's existence."

	Seconds ticked by, the sun falling deeper and deeper, moving with the passing time and dimming in response to the gentle, silver glow of the moon above and behind. Time did seem to flow faster here. As sleep had a tendency to move things along, you would assume so. The air was brisk, but not enough to cause a chill. Enough to wake you, ironically, in this world, frame of existence, or whatever it was.

	Mal0 nodded along, dragging little bone spurs across your shoulder, but not exactly hurting you. That skull of theirs seemed to carry a good bit more emotion than one would think possible. A bit of wonder, a quiet burn of contentment, and the sheer attachment you gathered from them by the way they clung to you. "I understand, to a degree. I... am grateful that you feel you can confide in me."

	Who else, if not them? You didn't say that, of course. With the way things were, the way the thing acted, and the whole "being ripped away from occupation, acquaintance, and family" situation, you didn't have much other choice. Plus, it couldn't exactly go mouthing off to anyone about you, all things considered.

	You felt like an ass. Everything was a game of no choices.

	Mal0 was a monster in the eyes of a regular person. They'd be feared and hated, likely, if the average Joe or Jane discovered them. They had no choice but to stay with you, or chance losing the rare opportunity to have a friend, or even someone to just talk to.

	You, on the other hand, were in the midst of some crazy fucking series of events. First, you met Mal0. That seemed to set something off with the Dragon, which disappeared, leaving you a wreck of emotion. Then, you started seeing shit, the threads and whatnot. In the confusing day following, some guy mentioned picking you up, you were dumb enough to accept.

	You made a mental note to ask Cameron when you woke up, to clarify who the hell these people were, and just who the fuck you were about to hunker down with.

	That also brought up... the Dragon. Would Cameron know about it? Mal0 knew about this Foundation, and explained its purpose and methods, at least briefly. Could Mal0 be able to tell you something about your missing friend?

	Was it a wise idea to spill everything to the skull-demon? Too many questions.

	"Do not fret, Weaver," they said. A creak left their jaw as it opened by a few degrees, and the words came out without further movement. It was strange, but the clawed hand reaching up and rubbing through your hair wasn't a part of something to fear. It had been a while since you had last felt that. "If you want, I can assist with redirecting your attention elsewhere. Another topic, or something else?"

	You could have asked for anything at this point, you knew, and Mal0 would've done their best to give what was requested. All you wanted now, however, was a spot of silence. Thoughts run wild were not something to wade through, to build around, lest whatever conclusions or plans constructed fall apart.

	So, you rested your head against theirs, and watched the moon fall for the second time.

	-\ The stars, the clouds, the dark. /-

	"-six breakfast burritos, yeah. No sauce- I said no sauce. And... three medium coffees. I'm a thirsty man, alright?"

	Who... where... fucking hell, your eyes wouldn't open.

	"Are you serious? Twelve-thirty-five? This is armed robbery! With... oils and sugars as weapons! Fuck it, yeah, I'll pull up."

	When you finally managed to break the layer of crud on your eyelids, and blink it away. The car was pulled up beside a fast food place. Yay, breakfast.

	Cameron appeared discontent with the situation, frown on his face and irritatiom in his eyes as he turned to wait for the food. "I've got your money right here," he said, passing a few ones and fives over and taking a bag and tray of drinks in return. "You have a good day too, ma'am."

	You felt the car lurch forward as your friend pulled ahead. After some crinkling of the brown bag and its contents, something hit your face. By the color and texture of the impact, you assumed it was a burrito, and looking down at your lap, you found that you weren't wrong. "Ah."

	"Wake up, Weaver. You've been asleep for, well... about... nine hours," Cameron said with his hand in the bag again. Another burrito was being withdrawn. "That's enough for any human." Lightning quick, another one of the sausage, egg, and cheese projectiles was launched at your face. You managed to catch that one. "See? Wake the fuck up; we're going to be experiencing turbulence, and I want you alert, man."

	With two of these things in your lap, your waking mind considered the possibility of Cameron being right. "I'm completely alert," you lied. "Just... give me a sec, alright?"

	The coffee in his hand caused you to flinch, especially as he attempted to hand it off to you. A face full of hot coffee wasn't something you wanted not five minutes after waking from such a nice dream. Cameron set the other coffee in his cupholder and sighed. "Drink it and eat your damned breakfast. We've got somewhere to be, and that somewhere is... probably the only place here that's safe from the guys that might want to open you up and, uh, see what the hell makes you tick?" The sentence picked up in pace and speed as it went on, while his face was held in a wincing expression. You agreed, the idea wasn't one you thought pleasant.

	"So they're still after us?" you asked. There wasn't a way to stop the worry that slipped into your voice.

	Cameron nodded, keeping his eyes on the road as he pulled out from the parking lot and made his way back to the highway. It seemed he was heading for the interstate yet again. "They'll be after us until we're dead or in their creepy mitts, bud. I already told you."

	"Right."

	"Don't worry too much about it. We'll be safe where we're going. And, you know, it's hard to stop someone going eighty miles an hour, wouldn't you think?" Once again, the rising pitch of his voice sapped what confidence you had in his words. It seemed to be a tell. An obvious one, really. It wasn't hard to see the uncertainty in his eyes either, now that the inside of the car was cast in sunlight. Did... you pull him from his life too?

	The question came to mind, and felt like a spear run through you. The guy next to you could've lived a relatively normal life if...whatever this is hadn't occurred. Maybe? There wasn't much you were certain of anymore. Could they have come for you before you developed that odd mode of perception? It was a plausible idea. None of it mattered... or, if you wanted to stay sane, it shouldn't matter, but you couldn't help but consider. A sip of the coffee took your thoughts away from what lie behind the strange passed hours of your life, catching focus with its chemical-bitter flavor that had you gagging after it hit your tongue.

	"That bad?" Cameron asked through a sip from his own cup. "Jeez, I'm way too used to this shit."

	[ Why did you buy three of those beverages, if you do not mind my inquiry? ] Mal0's voice rang out, reminding you of its presence. The threads hovering in a knot around the phone flashed with every syllable.

	"Once we get on the back roads, you'll have yourself something to eat. At least... if you eat-slash-drink," he explained. When he finally set his cup down, it was half-emptied. Jesus Christ.

	[ Thank you. I do not know if eating is required in this state, as it is rather new to me, but it is considerate of you to... consider my needs, ] it replied, sounding pleased.

	"You might want to hold out on the coffee, Mal0," you warned it, unable to help the smile on your face. "It's... not that good. The burritos should be perfectly fine, though."

	[ I will trust your statement. As of right now, I do not believe it is wise to take physical form, so I will not be eating with you and Reader. ] Vibrations traveled through your phone, buzzing against you. You raised it and unlocked it to see a photograph of the three of yourself taken from the front of the vehicle. Mal0 sits behind your seat with a clawed hand placed on your shoulder, while you... you look ragged. Hair disheveled, bags beneath your eyes, an expression of sullen anxiety impressed upon your fact that doesn't quite fit you.

	[ You are tired, correct? ] it asked.

	"I don't think I slept too well," you replied, truthful. The faint burn behind your eyes certainly gave that impression. Forever, it felt like, had passed since a full night's rest came to you with ease. If there was need for another reason to locate the Dragon, functioning well while the sun was up would slot into that list just as well as any, though the grimy sensation of selfishness clung to the extra sliver of motivation.

	"This moment is being interrupted to bring you a special request from your driver," said the driver in question, quick glances taken at you as his attention is splintered from the road. "Stay the fuck awake, at least for another hour. We're going through rough territory right now. As I said before." Urgency and irritation worked its way into his speech as a choppy sort of sound.

	[ I apologize. Perhaps I may use this time for practice. ] By practice, you didn't know what it meant.

	"I can stay awake, Ca- Reader," you answered, catching yourself. Could you? As is, it felt as if sleep itself had settled right into your bones, a gentle warmth that promised escape from these events that were certainly far from what you knew as reality. It was a tempting offer, absolutely, but you rebuffed it. Cameron would have had your ass, otherwise. And you like your ass.

	[ I can provide assistance for you in the case that you cannot stay alert, Weaver, ] said Mal0, with a tone you couldn't quite place. Was that teasing? It proved harder to sort out inflection through the speaker than it did the creature's actual voice. A sort of harsh, but correct comparison. It was likely something along the lines of your guess, considering the slight pinch in your shoulder that came from thin air.

	"That works for me. Much less effort on my part to keep the lazy asshole awake," he agrees. Another feeling had found its way into his voice, a shaken anxiety. Worry.

	"Come on now, both of you. I'm awake, I'm here, I'm just as worried but probably slightly more confused about our exact situation." You found yourself with a desire to be armed against whatever may come, information your blade or bullet. "What exactly are we up against? More Standers?"

	Mal0 decided to busy itself via messing around with your hair, which was an odd sensation given the lack of other senses confirming their presence. Feeling, and the nigh-imperceptible vibrations of its existential threads gave them away, everything else found nothing else. Also, the angle of their approach made craning your head back a herculean effort.

	Reader, however, his eyes were on the road, his focus set in stone and fixed in place with the mental equivalent of super glue, the shit that you always let dry on your fingertips to see if you could peel it away without hurting yourself. There was... a shortage of activities on rainy days. "Zack!" he shouted, snapping you from your general lack of attention to the situation. You could now see why he was angry. Sleep would've taken you in the next few seconds.

	"Man, you haven't called me by name in forever," you replied, reminiscing about the last time he had done so. It had been a-

	Reader snapped his fingers at you. "Calling you by name would've made me develop a habit of using your real name. There's a reason I stuck with 'man' or 'dude'. Now, I was going to say- there are things out there that don't like our sort. Not just the Foundation, not just the GOC, but things that aren't keen on having their worlds changed at all. There's a reason this reality has some semblance of normalcy compared to what you've heard of others. Except, we aren't normal, and now... we're percived as a threat to everything. Literally. Everything. Of course, we can only see anomalies."

	His tone changed rather quickly. "Others of our sort, well... there's more to it. Now, look alive. We're about to knock."

	"What?" you asked.

	"Put this in the radio." In his hand was a CD, labeled "Knock (NE Mt.) -Stairway to Heaven-"

	You were confused, but not enough so to lack the ability to slip the disc into the slot. The familiar song began to play, and Reader began to pick up speed. "What the hell are you doing?" you shouted, just as the road dropped from beneath the car. Empty air. Behind you was the familair road, ahead was... something, and between? Blank. White. Empty space.

	"We're in the final stretch. Get yourself sharp, else we're going to die."

	That something?

	It was moving. Moving towards the car.