//------------------------------// // Dreamer vs. Wind Whistler - Winner: Wind Whistler (by Default) // Story: OC Slamjam - Round One // by OC Slamjam //------------------------------// Wind Whistler vs. Dreamer - by Wind Whistler's Author Dreamer glanced at the clock outside his cell for the umpteenth time, even though he knew exactly how much time he had left until midnight. It was a talent he had developed out of necessity. When it becomes the difference between collapsing in a heap outside or quietly slipping to sleep inside one’s bed, a keen sense of time can make all the difference between a productive night of work and a day nursing a large bump. Five minutes left to go until it was lights out. The creamy white stallion sighed, knowing from several hours and countless attempts that the guards outside were not all that enthusiastic about letting him go. They had made it very clear that he was not leaving his cell until the morning. Another glance towards the clock told him that he still had about four and a half minutes left. With time running out until midnight, he had to start making some decisions, and fast. Should he try something drastic? They’d only fitted him with a very basic magic inhibitor, the kind typically used to prevent drunks from setting themselves on fire, he was certain he could overpower it. Then again, that might land him back in jail for an even longer time, which would lead to even more nights of nothing productive happening. Might be best to just toss this night away and keep searching once he was out. Dreamer snorted when he recalled how he’d even gotten there. Since he was a bit of a night owl (until midnight, anyway), he typically frequented places like bars and other establishments that kept their doors open until the early hours of the morning. One of the advantages was that he could ask ponies about her, and they’d probably not even remember a thing. The drunks, on the other hoof, were a definite downside. One moment he’d been asking a rather pretty earth pony mare if she’d seen anyone matching her description, and the next he was muzzle to muzzle with one of the largest unicorns he’d ever seen. Turns out the unicorn had mistaken him as somepony hitting on ‘his’ mare. A quick scuffle later they were both in separate drunk tanks. Unfortunately for Dreamer, claiming ‘he’s not using it for much anyway’ is no excuse for conking another stallion over the head with a drink tray. Three minutes left, may as well try one last time to reason with the guards. At the very least he might be able to collapse outside of a cell filled with intoxicated ponies. “Please, you don’t understand,” Dreamer implored the guards. “If I don’t go soon, I’ll miss my chance to find her!” “Who’s this ‘her’?” one of the guards asked. She’d been switched in after his most previous attempt at reasoning. The other guard shrugged his massive shoulders. “Who knows? Could be one of them Nightmare cultists, sort of fits the profile, doesn’t he?” Both guards turned to scrutinize him, going back forth about what parts of him did or didn’t seem cultish. Dreamer sighed. It was rare that he was mistaken for those fanatics, but it happened. He regarded the clock once more. Less than a minute left. “I am not a Nightmare Cultist,” he informed the guards after clearing his throat loudly. “I am a law abiding citizen who-” Sleep overtook him before he could finish. Luckily for him, he was leaned forward enough that he simply slumped against the bars, rather than falling over on his head. The two guards stared at the unresponsive stallion for several moments. The newer guard cleared her throat nervously. “So… uh… what was protocol for this?” Her partner sighed. “We have a suspected Nightmare Cultist who’s now passed out in a cell with a bunch of drunken hooligans. Get him out of there, then send word to the castle,” The mare paused by the cell door. “Who do we contact?” “Ever since the fiasco we had with the Changelings, any incidents regarding them, discordians, and the like go straight to the top,” “But Captain Armor’s in Ponyville right now visiting his sister,” the mare pointed out. The stallion pondered his partner’s words. “In that case, we send it to one of the Lieutenants,” The mare gulped. “They’re likely sleeping or busy right now, who do we bother?” “Send it to Whistler,” The other guard replied over his shoulder, trotting away. “Why him? And where are you going?” Hauling Dreamer out of the cell and closing it by herself was not an easy task without magic, but the earth pony made do. “He’s less likely to eat us alive for waking him up,” Came the response. “And I’m going to find a pie,” “...Might want to get a second one just in case,” He added to himself, glancing back at the practically comatose form of Dreamer. First Lieutenant Wind Whistler was not much of a morning pony. He was, however, a pie pony, so he supposed he could forgive the nervous looking duo of guards in front of him. That is, if he was able to have that pie held in the stallion’s magic all to himself. Forgiveness pies were not meant to be shared, and Whistler had no intentions on breaking tradition. “So, remind me,” he said, taking a bite out of the small pie. Apple, but rather small. It was really more like a largish tart if one wanted to get picky. “What was so important about an unconscious drunk that you had to wake me up?” “Well…” The mare began. “He wasn’t actually drunk. The only reason he was in there was so he could think about what he’d done. There weren’t even any charges we were going to press him with,” “This is seeming less and less like something I would’ve been needed for,” the pie-eating pegasus remarked. “But I got a late night snack out of it, so I’ll keep listening,” “Thank you sir,” the earth pony continued her report. “After being detained, he kept going on and on about a ‘her’ that he needed to find, and then at exactly midnight, he passed out, and we have been unable to get a response from him since,” “We believe that he was is a possible Nightmare Cultist,” The unicorn added. “And since Shining’s out of town, you have to bother me because I probably won’t assign you to door duty for waking me up since I’ve gotten pie, right?” Wind Whistler asked. “Pretty much, sir,” The duo chorused. “Well, you were right to get someone of my rank, and you were also right that pie would save you from door duty,” Whistler said, yawning after finishing the first pie-tart. He pushed the other one aside for later. “Now, let’s talk about this possible cultist,” “For starters, none of the standard techniques have gotten any sort of response out of him,” the stallion told him. “Wake up spells, small shocks, loud noises, and even vigorous applications of friction to the limbs have all proven ineffective,” “We’ve had the medical staff examine him, and they agree that he’s non-responsive, but otherwise completely fine,” the mare added. “Strange, considering he’s in fairly good health and by the witness accounts was untouched in the scuffle that landed him here,” “Not to mention he seemed completely sober when he arrived,” the unicorn chimed back in. “That is pretty odd,” Whistler agreed. “I’ll send a message to Princess Luna, but she won’t be able to get to it until the morning. Until then, we’ll observe him,” “Yes sir,” the two guards saluted. “Anything else?” The earth pony asked. “I’ll need a small bucket of warm water,” Wind Whistler replied. “While the pies saved you two, he’s still the reason I’m up at this hour. I need a good laugh, and it’s been ages since an opportunity this good’s come along,” Both guards were immediately very thankful that they’d been able to get a hold of a peace offering. Saluting, they headed off to gather the bucket and water. Wind Whistler watched them leave, before pulling over the second pie-tart. Five minutes counted as later in his books. It was going to be a long night, he could feel it. When Dreamer regained consciousness, he became acutely aware of several rather important details. Chief among them was that the magic suppressor on his horn had been replaced by a much stronger model. Dreamer wasn’t sure if he’d be able to break it even if he put his full power into it. Second was that he seemed to have a chain around his ankle securing him to the bed he was currently resting on. Odd, especially since he’d only been in a bar brawl. There was a drowsy looking pegasus at a desk a few meters away from the bed. He seemed to be mid-yawn when Dreamer woke up, and so hadn’t noticed that he was awake yet. Dreamer’s right foreleg also seemed to be immersed in a bucket of room temperature water, but that didn’t seem important compared to the other details at the moment. The pegasus finished yawning, and noticed that his charge was awake. “Oh good, you’ve woken up,” he said, another small yawn escaping from his mouth. “The other guards were starting to place bets on when you’d wake up, if ever,” “What time is it?” Dreamer asked, even though he knew it was exactly eight in the morning. Ever since he’d been able to convince that Unicorn to curse him, his sleep cycle had been midnight to eight, without fail. “Eight in the morning~” Came the expected reply. “Which means that I was the closest,” the guard said jovially. “Now up and at em, we’ve got a busy few hours ahead of us,” “Why is that?” Dreamer asked. “Shouldn’t I be able to go now?” “Normally, yes,” the pegasus replied. “But your behaviour last night raised some red flags for the guards watching over the drunk tank. You are currently under suspicion of being part of the Nightmare Cult, and we are on our way to meet with Princess Luna before she heads off to bed,” “But I’m not a cultist!” Dreamer protested. If this kept up, he might have another wasted night on his hooves. The guard raised a hoof to silence him. “I don’t think so either, but it’s protocol to check these days,” He patted Dreamer on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, if things go well, this’ll just take another couple hours, and then you’ll be a free stallion.” “Great,” Dreamer muttered. The guard unlocked the chain around his ankle, and gestured towards the door with a hoof. Dreamer stumbled a little when he took his hoof out of the bucket, and followed the guard’s lead. “A quick question before we leave,” He asked. “Why was my hoof in a bucket?” “That’s easy,” the guard said over his shoulder. “I was bored. I gotta say though, when you sleep, you sleep hard. That bucket prank didn’t even work on you,” Dreamer was puzzled, but followed the chatty pegasus to the carriage used to transport criminals, witnesses, and suspects. Wind Whistler studied the odd unicorn sitting across from him. He was almost certain that the other stallion wasn’t a Nightmare Cultist. Dreamer didn’t have the usual air of madness that most of the cultists possessed, and when confronted with a sudden booming “PRAISE THE SUN!”, the only reaction he’d given was a raised eyebrow. Most cultists would have blown a pupil in rage at any inklings of sun-worship. All that being said, there was still something about him that suggested not all was normal. Whistler could tell that the creamy unicorn was hiding something. He couldn’t say what for sure, but there was definitely something, and he was definitely going to find out. “So…” He began, looking idly out the (barred) window of the carriage. “Who is this ‘she’ you were talking about earlier?” “I don’t know,” Dreamer replied. “That’s what I want to find out. She appeared in my dreams, and I knew I had to find her for real,” “You’re sure she wasn’t just a dream?” Whistler asked, amused. Who hadn’t dreamt about a beautiful and mysterious mare? “I am,” Dreamer’s tone suggested that he wasn’t going to elaborate much. “What makes you so sure?” “I’ve been studying Dream Walking ever since,” the unicorn replied, sighing. “I knew from the beginning that it was more than just a dream, but since then I’ve confirmed it. She was walking in my dreams,” “Well, even if you’re not a Nightmare Cultist, it’s a good thing we’re going to see Princess Luna,” Whistler mused. “Why’s that?” Dreamer asked. “Well, dream walking still falls into a really odd area as far as the law goes,” came the response. “It’s not strictly forbidden, but the Princess doesn’t really like ponies walking around in each other’s dreams unsupervised. If this mare’s been dreamwalking, either Princess Luna knows about it, or will make sure we’re able to track her down,” “Track her down and do what, exactly?” Dreamer asked, somewhat glad he hadn’t mentioned anything beyond him studying dreamwalking. “Nothing like what you’re thinking,” Whistler laughed. “Since there are certain dangers associated with dreamwalking, she’d make sure that this mystery mare was able to go about what she’s doing safely,” Dreamer was silent. He knew that whoever she was, she was definitely good enough to be safe about dreamwalking. She might even be better than the princess at it. It didn’t matter, so long as he was able to find her. “See?” Whistler said after they’d left the rather uneventful meeting with the Princess. She’d only given Dreamer a quick once-over with a spell that had left him tasting blueberries before declaring him ‘as much a cultist as mine sister is a turnip’, and turning the rest of her attention the the guard. “Just a quick visit,” Whistler had briefly explained about Dreamer’s mystery mare, requesting to be allowed to lead an investigation to find the unregistered dreamwalker. Luna had agreed, on the condition that Whistler send daily reports, which the pegasus had agreed to with a grimace. “Thanks,” Dreamer said, glad that he’d finally be able to make some progress towards finding her. “Don’t mention it,” Whistler said over his shoulder, leading the two of them away from the throne room. “Oh, that’s right,” the guard stopped so suddenly that Dreamer almost walked right into his tail. “We haven’t properly introduced ourselves,” he extended a hoof. “Name’s Wind Whistler, First Lieutenant of the Royal Guard,” “Dreamer,” the unicorn bumped the hoof offered. “Well, Mr. Dreamer, we’re probably going to be seeing quite a bit of each other until this mystery mare of yours is found,” Wind Whistler said. “Indeed,” Dreamer agreed. “I look forward to working with you,” “Likewise,” the duo made their way towards Whistler’s office, both with ideas on how to proceed next already forming.