Chapter 1 – The End of the Beginning
Note – Welcome, gentle Readers, to a new dream spun for you by the DreamWeaver. Please remember that the DreamWeaver works within and without existing legends and seeks not to infringe on the rights of those whom this world belongs to.
Saturday, April 14th 2186. Dallas, Texas, United North American States.
It was the perfect day. Clouds had rolled in, light gray and rainless, in the early morning, masking the sun's bright rays and dimming the day into something more bearable than the usual Texas summer heat. A stiff breeze off the shores of Lake Dallas whisked away the heavy sense of humidity, keeping the air from stagnating beneath the oppressive layer of clouds. The neatly groomed trees lining the sidewalks rustled in the wind, the creak of branches adding a layer of texture to the high-pitched whine of passing vehicles as they sped through the busy streets. The temperature was in the lower seventies, but the possible threat of rain made it a perfect day to stay indoors and not risk a sudden Texan downpour. It was absolutely the perfect day.
For a convention.
The Dallas Metropolis Convention Center was packed to the gills that fine Saturday afternoon, thousands of geeks and nerds from all corners of the great state of Texas had flocked to the 50th annual science fiction and fantasy convention known, affectionately, as HeroCon. The hallways of this enormous stadium-sized building were flooded with enthusiastic convention goers alike, traversing the maze-like passages from Dealer Room to Main Convention Floor to the gaming rooms. Hundreds of panels were being run by some of the top artists, designers and writers of the age, attendance filling room capacities to the brim with fanatics, enthusiasts and newcomers. Trades were being made on the convention floor for goods, collectibles and art, thousands of voices swirling into a cacophony of nerddom brought to life.
And then, there were the cosplayers.
Costumed convention goers ranging from small infants to elderly adults swanned about the show room floors, clad in clothing from their favorite geekdoms spanning the centuries. A myriad of the impressive, the pathetic and the just plain bizarre ran the gamut of costumes worn by these avid nerds. Nothing was taboo, from the extremely elaborate and impressive layers of fantastical armor born of a fantasy series, to the scantily clad, barely there school girl uniforms of a Japanese hentai, the cosplayers held no belief in shame. Standing alone amidst a sea of fangirls or ranging in impressive group displays that accurately reflected the dynamics of classic science fiction films, cosplayers paraded up and down the hallways like they were the star attraction of the show.
Well, not all of them.
A group of photographers and fascinated onlookers had converged in a corner of the central convention lobby, bathing the nearby stairwell in an orange glow from the sheer number of exposed omni-tools. Bright flashes from every which way gave the impression of a very confused thunderstorm, unaware that it should be passing on and instead keeps throwing strikes of lightning at random targets. Above the insectoid chatter of clicking cameras, excited fangirl squeals echoed in the three story lobby room and the playful nudges of male onlookers added a colorful ambiance to the ears of those that were being held prisoner in their poses.
Just beyond the semi-circle of omni-tools stood a trio of cosplayers, clad in some of the most iconic costumes of the previous millennia. Flanking a small female, two dark haired young men stood tall with their bodies canted toward each other. The one on the right stood clad from neck to toe in black, nothing unremarkable except for the brown robe that enveloped his frame and the metallic handle of a sword between his palms, the blade casting a contrasting green glow against the orange omni-tools.
Opposite him stood his companion, tall with bright blue eyes sparkling mischievously above a roguish grin. One hand pointed down the crowd with a black and silver metallic pistol, the opposing hand planted almost possessively on the small of the back of the female. His non-descript black boots gave way to trousers striped with white, which opened into a low slung weapon holster. The white shirt was tucked in almost haphazardly while a black vest layered neatly over the top. He looked like a science fiction styled old-West gunslinger.
And between them stood the ultimate icon from their portrayed movie, slender and lithe in gold and scarlet. Long ebony black hair was brushed and pinned neatly back from large emerald eyes, sleekly tied into a single braid that hung against her backside. Small hips were swathed in gold metallic pieces, draping lengths of red silk to her ankles in both the front and back. The length of abdomen to the beginning of her chest was bare, interrupted by yet more gold in the fashion of a bikini top, ending at the throat in a large golden resin collar. Despite the fact their chosen cosplay was almost two and a half centuries old, the trilogy of films aptly named Star Wars, still remained a cult classic, remarkable in its simplicity and stunning portrayal of interactions of galactic races beyond humanity.
The youngest of the assembled Star Wars enthusiasts, clocking in at just three weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, was Aurelia Robbins. Shifting her weight to her other foot, she cocked her hip jauntily and angled her slender frame toward her black-clad brother. Drawing her hand up to rest a metallic blaster against her shoulder, she drew her lips into a sultry smile and stared into the flashing camera lights. She could feel giddy laughter bubbling up from the depths of her chest and she strove to tamp it down so she could stay in character. This was a brilliant idea…
"This was the best idea ever, Or." Her older brother, twenty year old Aiden Robbins, echoed her thoughts out of the corner of his mouth as he struggled to maintain stoicism as a proper Jedi Knight.
"I knew no one else was going to do this. Who would still be wearing something two centuries old?" Tall Nicholai Rosenoff, Aiden's slightly younger best friend, replied with a smothered laugh. "Thank god your sister's an amazing seamstress."
"Pfft, we should be thankful it's almost my birthday so Mom and Dad would foot the bill for the weekend passes." Aurelia snickered back as a new wave of flashes started when new convention goers passed through the front doors beyond the ticket booths and caught sight of the trio. Aurelia could feel her knees starting to ache from standing on the hard floor in a thin layer of rubber sole that made up her iconic boots and her face was almost numb from smiling for the past half hour at the camera. She rolled her shoulders back, trying to ease some of the strain on her back from the awkward positions they had been posing in since they got inside the door. Finally, her patience wore out.
"Alright folks, thank you so much for your fascination!" Aurelia shouted over the din as she threw her hands up in a cease and desist motion. "We will be taking a fifteen minute break to get some water and stretch, then we'll be back for more poses and we'll be happy to take pictures with the crowd."
There was a collective groan from the assembled onlookers that they hadn't quite gotten their fill of the enigmatic group, but Nick joined in her decision to take a small break by holstering his weapon and backing up a step to plant his butt firmly on the marble floor below him. Aiden followed suit by turning off the batteries of his cleverly engineered by Nick lightsaber and plopping onto the ground next to his best friend. If there was anything Nick could do, Aurelia mused as she looked at the green bladed weapon, it was electronics. That man loved to tinker with anything that had wires and a circuit board and could spend hours taking apart Aurelia's desk terminal and putting it back together while she played N7: Code of Honor with Aiden.
Glancing fondly toward her older brother as he looked up at her with an impish grin, she parted her lips to tell him something. But whatever phrase or endearment she was about to deliver to her sibling, the moment was lost forever when a high pitched shriek ripped decibels above the happy chatter of the crowd. The noise echoed off buildings, rebounding off stone and metal until her head fairly vibrated with the sound and she ducked to cover her ears with her hands. Suddenly, Nick and Aiden flew off the ground as they dove at her still standing frame and the world exploded into terror and chaos.
Aurelia hit the ground underneath the collective embrace of her brother and friend as the deafening roar of an explosion slammed into her ear drums. All around her glass shattered and the ground rolled ominously beneath her back. People screamed from fear and feet went running as a bright, red, wicked looking light flashed near the convention center and another loud BOOM sounded, rolling the ground like the angry stomping of a wronged giant. The stench of burning something and melted plastic was suddenly thick and acrid in the air around them.
Across the street from them, a building shattered as though it had been made of glass instead of metal and stone. Debris crumbled into the face of the convention center, scattering rocks and dust like the dribbling of fairy glitter from a vial. Papers fell like a shower of large white flakes of snow and ash whispered through the air so like the pollen of a blown dandelion head. Cars were sent screeching onto sidewalks and slamming face first into walls that had been erected to protect those within from those without. The downfall of a single building brought devastation of proportions that hadn't been seen in Dallas for decades. And beyond it, madness lie.
Ripping her head up from where her face was being held pressed against her brother's chest, she tipped her chin back until she was able to look out beyond the shattered panes of windows.
And there she saw amongst the clouds the descending body of dead C'thulu who lies dreaming in his house at R'lyeh.
The DreamWeaver hopes that this part of a dream has pleased you, dear Reader, and, if it has, perhaps you will honor the DreamWeaver with a review.
May your dreams guide you on the pathway to the joys of tomorrow.