[It’s a lovely day at the lake. Things don’t go wrong here; the sun exists, the water is blue and bloodless, and a small canine is running around the shoreline, yapping merrily. Aubrey is chasing it.]
Stop running! [But the dog won’t listen to her.] Give him back!
[Not that Akechi would know, but the lake’s a little different than reality. The forest beyond is just a few yards closer than it should be, claustrophobic in some corners; old toys and pinwheels are being swallowed by overgrowth. And the pier, which is supposed to stop a few feet out, now extends all the way to that tiny island with the statue, like an aisle straight to hell. Faintly, a whisper from the congregation of trees. They don’t approve of what’s happening.
[Akechi is seated on the structure’s roof. Aubrey’s sword is his; if he’d like, he can grab it like a good shovel.]
What are you doing? [It’s unclear whether Aubrey is yelling at him or the runaway. The mongrel appears safe from a distance, but there’s a wild look in its eyes, clearer up close. Something is in its mouth. A bone?
[An arm.
[The animal nearly runs past the interloper (that’d be you, Akechi), then freezes. Beady, horizontal pupils lock him in its crosshairs. Red drips from its maw. It looks ready to charge. Aubrey won’t catch up before it’s too late.]
Edited (what if I posted the tag and immediately rephrased a bunch of things. what then) 2024-05-01 04:27 (UTC)
The fact he's here bothering him less than the recognition that it's not a surprise - sword beside him, he's tempted to stab through the molding.
He doesn't though. Simply grips the hilt on the top of this bungalow, distressed Aubrey noises in the distance along with a dog(??). It looks like one. The item in its mouth-
A doubletake. An arm - human in nature. The dog blood coated and ready to fight. A familiar sight given recent events. Bashing its skull relentlessly a style he approves of, but one he won't be able to recreate. He steadies the blade in his hand ready to slash it to pieces though - a passing thought about whether it will be that easy or not, given the state of the dreamlike world. If it comes to him, he won't hesitate.]
I suppose it's no surprise this memory would stay with you.
[There. Akechi is good at that. That’s how he kept them safe.
[Aubrey catches up, at least physically. She steps on the dog’s head as if it’s nothing but a stray toy. The skull snaps like a twig.]
Thanks, Akechi. You’re a lifesaver. [And though she looks up at him, it strikes her as… off, somehow. Shouldn’t she be holding the blade? Or, no, something else? He wasn’t this high up.
That's a question I should ask you. I simply appeared here.
[A dead dog - a snap of its body under her uncaring heels. Eren's voice an echo. Maybe it wasn't his to begin with.
It's a dream. Dropping down won't cause permanent damage - he does take care when he slides down one of the columns anyway after tossing the sword to the ground. It's not his.]
This is a rather idyllic backdrop for such an aggressive dream.
[It almost smooths over. Of course he appeared here, just like anyone does. (In Somnius.) The sword drops, her palm bleeds, that’s right—
[“Dream.”
[Aubrey blinks, as if startled.] Ake–ow— Akechi? [Pinched herself mid-name there. On the hand, incidentally, the skin that got just a bit mangled. She takes a step back, very much awake, and loses a shoe to the broken bones. She tries not to look at it.]
[The erratic nature of the mind makes shifts, sounds, and blood soaked palms look normal, despite every blink bringing a new issue to the literal and metaphorical light. She doesn't seem as aware as some of the others he's stumbled in - it makes sense. He's an intruder in her world, much like a palace. Any sort of shock or shake to that foundation-
Could be a problem.]
It's not my intent to intrude on your private thoughts and dreams, if that's your concern. This happened on accident.
[He sounds too clear for one of her dreams. Then again, she rarely remembers them. Aubrey’s not used to having thoughts like this. Then again…]
Akechi. Goro Akechi. [Subtly, the scene shifts like melting clockwork; ridges in the pier smoothing out to ground, gaps in the statue sprouting the criss-cross of an anti-goat gate. If Aubrey notices these, they don’t give her pause.] You know me. We’ve met…
[Then why does it feel off? Dream sense: here one second, gone the next. Aubrey backs up a little, as if she might be the intruder. Glances around the space, as if the lake is only just registering.]
[It's borderline offensive that his cognitive association involves that goddamn goat - the gate a familiar source of ire for a bitter memory.
She's-
Still not here. Says his name, steps back like she's afraid - he wonders if it's so odd for her to have people she recognizes in this personal space.
We're friends. Right?
A question that should be an instantaneous 'yes' - the grip of a hand around his coated with spoken gratitude, someone holding a leash for volatile, a guardian to those who need it most and least. He hates her. Every piece of her - phone calls and check in texts that are meaningless in a fantasy world set to be destroyed. He isn't going to care about the mumblings of ants and-
He doesn't give a shit about lying to a girl in her own dreams.
He hates Aubrey.
A laugh, a soft smile and a gloved hand pressed under his chin - he acts like the question is ridiculous.]
Of course we're friends - unless that's too strong a term for you. I would hate to presume anything about our relationship, but I find myself drawn to you. It would be an honor to be considered one.
[Said like a half-joke. But she seems placated by the notion, tense shoulders dropping. In the waking world, “friend” is still a word Aubrey would hesitate to use lightly. But if anyone had earned it…
[Yeah. This makes sense. Memory has always warped this place. Of course it would be extra potent now, even if her settled mind can’t quite latch onto the why or how.
[Aubrey regards Akechi with a small nod, approving of his continued existence. This also makes sense, to her.]
I used to visit the lake with my friends back at home. [Idyllic, you see. Answering a question that wasn’t asked. Vines in the periphery slink back into the mundane overgrowth of an abandoned property.] Kel has a dog [as if Akechi is supposed to magically intuit who that is], and he’d get loose and run all around here.
[The pleasant a riled up nerve covered with a saccharine smile. He ignores it.
The next few pieces - he doesn't. A lake he glances over - typical to what he's seen before. Discussion of Kel and friends back home and dogs getting loose.
It's so normal. So typical. Vines appear in his peripherals, but he ignores them for them for now.
[The dream may be Aubrey’s, but Akechi is here, too. A small secession: Behind them, the water rises like a tide, and if they look back the corpse won’t be where it fell. It’s gone now.
[Aubrey doesn’t notice this. But ahead, sand lines the shore; it didn’t before. The beach was a calming place, too.]
It’s so… normal. [The last word said as though she’s not sure how to feel about it.] You know, I went to Lake Omen once, back when I first got here. Something in the water started singing, and I freaked out and left.
[There’s a tune on the wind now. A gentle hum from far away, remembered clear as though it was yesterday.
[Aubrey looks to the shore, and it stops. It’s been gone for years.]
You visit dreams, Akechi. [Maybe that’s not normal. At this point, what is?] Is it always like this?
Did you now? No one could blame you. Though after defeating Danger, I'm quite certain you could handle whatever was in that lake.
[It's a joke, mostly. He doesn't want to fish her corpse out of the water, but she isn't foolish enough to take that as an invitation to fight whatever's in the water.
But there's a hum he tries to follow with his eyes - no discernable source in this idyllic little world. It may be Aubrey. A parent. Anyone.]
You ask that as if I'm an expert - in my minimal experience, I've visited far more volatile ones. So-
[A beat - the water is nice. The sand is nice. It's all too calm and it's giving him a sense of unease.] I have to say I'm enjoying it here most of all.
[Fully lucid or not, there is one thing that strikes Aubrey as off:
[“I find myself drawn to you.” “I’m enjoying it here most of all.”
[Is he kissing her ass?]
Yeah… I guess it’s nice. Despite how it started. [“Nice.” Melancholy, too, for her. But it doesn’t show in the world; only in how she says the word, “nice,” a sorry consolation. She really doesn’t have the mind to linger. Strangely, it’s not a wholly unfamiliar feeling. Was that split really only two months ago?
[Time doesn’t matter here, maybe. There’s only forward.]
[Not far off the shore is a red-checked blanket, though the basket is missing. Flowers are strewn across like a family picnic. Only two people are left.
[Aubrey seats herself, and motions for Akechi to join her. For the moment, the rest of the landscape is still.]
I’m tired of fighting. [She picks idly at a few stems, playing with the idea of weaving them. Doesn’t commit just yet.] You must be— I mean, we’re both from normal worlds, right? Even as a detective, you probably didn’t have to fight.
[The run-in with Danger implies as much. But that doesn’t sound right, either. He kept them safe....]
[Slicing down that manic dog is a part of the pleasantries of this place. He isn't upset to put a feral creature in its place.
The blanket is new - a feature that blinks into existence in a manner so picturesque, he thinks it's something from a book instead of her memories. He joins all the same - sitting politely by the edge as he watches her pick at the flowers.]
Suffice to say while you may be tired of it, please remember you still have to. Your dream is a reprieve, but reality requires it.
[But-
"you probably didn't have to fight" is true. He didn't have to.
He chose to walk into Mementos with blade and gun, turn people's souls into muck and ash, press a gun to the head of his 'friend' and watch the drip, drip, drip of blood pepper the ground.
No, he didn't have to. Wasn't forced to. But he did, he does, and he will continue until Shido's head is laying at his feet.]
A rowdy perpetrator wasn't uncommon - however, I'm unaccustomed to this degree of battle. It's quite tiring at times.
[“Please remember you still have to.” She might take some offense to that, if she was awake, more agitated. The unreality of it all would, should irritate her; “quite tiring,” an understatement. Aubrey’s been sleep-deprived for a while.
[Maybe it’s only okay with her because it’s coming from her. Because Aubrey doesn’t have nightmares, not bad enough to recall. Because maybe everyone likes to escape in their dreams, whether they remember or not.
[Akechi envisions a head. A breeze, and leaves and paper drift by in an autumn chill. Wrong season for that; Aubrey’s frown tenses. She must have forgotten to close the window again, or the patch blew off from where the birds swarmed in; Sunny’s got an awful lot of papers crammed under his couch, and she’s tried not to look, but they go astray at times.
[Aubrey doesn’t have a second to look at the image; it’s only leftover intuition that told her it was Sunny’s drawing, but that’s not right at all. Akechi crushes it with prejudice. Subconscious upset. She trusts him.]
I don’t remember collapsing.
[Again—disruption prompting wakefulness, or at least awareness. Aubrey’s on her feet in an instant, and the overgrowth closes in. It never fully went away. It’s the wrong season; summer at home, cold here, and just like that first month, there’s no defense. What’s next, a swarm of snow angels—?
[Thoughts are dangerous. Forget the flowers. Aubrey grabs Akechi’s wrist and bolts, grabbing her weapon along the way—a stick, gnarled and pathetic. It’s nothing. It won’t save him.]
You’re the one with dream experience! [It’s his fault.] How do you wake up?
Edited (had to change one (1) word) 2024-05-06 01:11 (UTC)
[This is preferable to the Shido looking drawing that scattered by him - he can only hope the overgrowth consumes that shitty image.
They're running now - her grasping his wrist like he wouldn't keep up otherwise. A stick for protection. He doesn't need saving, she does, but the old adage of dying in real life if you die in a dream-
It's not true. He's dreamed enough to know it.
He isn't bothered by their current situation - a shitty sequel to the events of a few weeks ago. It must be a raw wound for her. Dragged, but he lacks the fear she's exuding. If they die, they die. If they live, they live. Waking up is the priority now.]
You're generously overestimating how much I know about this. I've been dragged into them - I can't recall how to leave, though if it's like a normal dream...
[Being jolted awake. A sudden fear. Maybe death is the answer now.]
[Akechi talks, and he’s not panicked; Aubrey slows, but she’s not calmed. He has a request. She shakes her head.]
No. No, I can’t let y—
[A raw wound. Death is the answer. She drops, and the arm falls to the—no, the stick, it was—an arm—a bone—a writhing, maggot-infested thing chunk of torn meat it—crawled in years ago it must have died there under piles of garbage and rotted away like an abandoned toy it’s a rabbit it’s a pet a dog an animal human dead gone gone—
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
post-event | action (dream edition)
[It’s a lovely day at the lake. Things don’t go wrong here; the sun exists, the water is blue and bloodless, and a small canine is running around the shoreline, yapping merrily. Aubrey is chasing it.]
Stop running! [But the dog won’t listen to her.] Give him back!
[Not that Akechi would know, but the lake’s a little different than reality. The forest beyond is just a few yards closer than it should be, claustrophobic in some corners; old toys and pinwheels are being swallowed by overgrowth. And the pier, which is supposed to stop a few feet out, now extends all the way to that tiny island with the statue, like an aisle straight to hell. Faintly, a whisper from the congregation of trees. They don’t approve of what’s happening.
[Akechi is seated on the structure’s roof. Aubrey’s sword is his; if he’d like, he can grab it like a good shovel.]
What are you doing? [It’s unclear whether Aubrey is yelling at him or the runaway. The mongrel appears safe from a distance, but there’s a wild look in its eyes, clearer up close. Something is in its mouth. A bone?
[An arm.
[The animal nearly runs past the interloper (that’d be you, Akechi), then freezes. Beady, horizontal pupils lock him in its crosshairs. Red drips from its maw. It looks ready to charge. Aubrey won’t catch up before it’s too late.]
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The fact he's here bothering him less than the recognition that it's not a surprise - sword beside him, he's tempted to stab through the molding.
He doesn't though. Simply grips the hilt on the top of this bungalow, distressed Aubrey noises in the distance along with a dog(??). It looks like one. The item in its mouth-
A doubletake. An arm - human in nature. The dog blood coated and ready to fight. A familiar sight given recent events. Bashing its skull relentlessly a style he approves of, but one he won't be able to recreate. He steadies the blade in his hand ready to slash it to pieces though - a passing thought about whether it will be that easy or not, given the state of the dreamlike world. If it comes to him, he won't hesitate.]
I suppose it's no surprise this memory would stay with you.
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Huh? [Aubrey doesn’t have lucid dreams.] What are you—?
[The dog lunges. No canine should be able to jump that high, but it nips at Akechi’s heel. It laughs, feral.
[What Akechi does to it, the ease and result of the slash, is up to him. Aubrey wasn’t the one who kept him safe.]
cw: dream animal death
Without hesitation, the bloodied dog is coated with a new sheen of brilliant red - throat slashed with the sword left to him. Instant. Precise.
It's self-defense after all. Eren taught him how to kill rabid dogs with efficiency. Unavoidable.]
My apologies.
cw brief surreal-dream-gore
[There. Akechi is good at that. That’s how he kept them safe.
[Aubrey catches up, at least physically. She steps on the dog’s head as if it’s nothing but a stray toy. The skull snaps like a twig.]
Thanks, Akechi. You’re a lifesaver. [And though she looks up at him, it strikes her as… off, somehow. Shouldn’t she be holding the blade? Or, no, something else? He wasn’t this high up.
[Gratefulness gives idle way to bafflement.]
How’d you get up there…?
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[A dead dog - a snap of its body under her uncaring heels. Eren's voice an echo. Maybe it wasn't his to begin with.
It's a dream. Dropping down won't cause permanent damage - he does take care when he slides down one of the columns anyway after tossing the sword to the ground. It's not his.]
This is a rather idyllic backdrop for such an aggressive dream.
[What the dog doin??? Not much now.]
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[It almost smooths over. Of course he appeared here, just like anyone does. (In Somnius.) The sword drops, her palm bleeds, that’s right—
[“Dream.”
[Aubrey blinks, as if startled.] Ake–ow— Akechi? [Pinched herself mid-name there. On the hand, incidentally, the skin that got just a bit mangled. She takes a step back, very much awake, and loses a shoe to the broken bones. She tries not to look at it.]
How did you…? [Know? Get in here? How…?]
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Could be a problem.]
It's not my intent to intrude on your private thoughts and dreams, if that's your concern. This happened on accident.
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[He sounds too clear for one of her dreams. Then again, she rarely remembers them. Aubrey’s not used to having thoughts like this. Then again…]
Akechi. Goro Akechi. [Subtly, the scene shifts like melting clockwork; ridges in the pier smoothing out to ground, gaps in the statue sprouting the criss-cross of an anti-goat gate. If Aubrey notices these, they don’t give her pause.] You know me. We’ve met…
[Then why does it feel off? Dream sense: here one second, gone the next. Aubrey backs up a little, as if she might be the intruder. Glances around the space, as if the lake is only just registering.]
We’re friends. Right?
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She's-
Still not here. Says his name, steps back like she's afraid - he wonders if it's so odd for her to have people she recognizes in this personal space.
We're friends. Right?
A question that should be an instantaneous 'yes' - the grip of a hand around his coated with spoken gratitude, someone holding a leash for volatile, a guardian to those who need it most and least. He hates her. Every piece of her - phone calls and check in texts that are meaningless in a fantasy world set to be destroyed. He isn't going to care about the mumblings of ants and-
He doesn't give a shit about lying to a girl in her own dreams.
He hates Aubrey.
A laugh, a soft smile and a gloved hand pressed under his chin - he acts like the question is ridiculous.]
Of course we're friends - unless that's too strong a term for you. I would hate to presume anything about our relationship, but I find myself drawn to you. It would be an honor to be considered one.
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You’re pleasant.
[Said like a half-joke. But she seems placated by the notion, tense shoulders dropping. In the waking world, “friend” is still a word Aubrey would hesitate to use lightly. But if anyone had earned it…
[Yeah. This makes sense. Memory has always warped this place. Of course it would be extra potent now, even if her settled mind can’t quite latch onto the why or how.
[Aubrey regards Akechi with a small nod, approving of his continued existence. This also makes sense, to her.]
I used to visit the lake with my friends back at home. [Idyllic, you see. Answering a question that wasn’t asked. Vines in the periphery slink back into the mundane overgrowth of an abandoned property.] Kel has a dog [as if Akechi is supposed to magically intuit who that is], and he’d get loose and run all around here.
Used to drive us nuts. [It’s fond.]
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The next few pieces - he doesn't. A lake he glances over - typical to what he's seen before. Discussion of Kel and friends back home and dogs getting loose.
It's so normal. So typical. Vines appear in his peripherals, but he ignores them for them for now.
He offers a pleasant little hm and-]
Do you miss this place?
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A bit, yeah. [She scratches her neck. Everything is okay. It’s a familiar place, and things are where they (more or less) should be, and…
[It’s empty, besides them.]
A lot.
[A sigh, small. Resigned. Not dwelling on it. Wanting to go back to the way it used to be was only ever a dream.
[With a shrug, Aubrey turns back to shore, motioning for Akechi to follow.] How’d you know? What this is, I mean.
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[They feel like a palace too, in a way. It's different than the pseudo-reality of Somnius.
But he treks behind faithfully - the shore of the lake calming, despite the excitement from earlier. Maybe the water will lap that dog's corpse away.]
It seems peaceful here. I can understand why you would miss it.
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[The dream may be Aubrey’s, but Akechi is here, too. A small secession: Behind them, the water rises like a tide, and if they look back the corpse won’t be where it fell. It’s gone now.
[Aubrey doesn’t notice this. But ahead, sand lines the shore; it didn’t before. The beach was a calming place, too.]
It’s so… normal. [The last word said as though she’s not sure how to feel about it.] You know, I went to Lake Omen once, back when I first got here. Something in the water started singing, and I freaked out and left.
[There’s a tune on the wind now. A gentle hum from far away, remembered clear as though it was yesterday.
[Aubrey looks to the shore, and it stops. It’s been gone for years.]
You visit dreams, Akechi. [Maybe that’s not normal. At this point, what is?] Is it always like this?
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[It's a joke, mostly. He doesn't want to fish her corpse out of the water, but she isn't foolish enough to take that as an invitation to fight whatever's in the water.
But there's a hum he tries to follow with his eyes - no discernable source in this idyllic little world. It may be Aubrey. A parent. Anyone.]
You ask that as if I'm an expert - in my minimal experience, I've visited far more volatile ones. So-
[A beat - the water is nice. The sand is nice. It's all too calm and it's giving him a sense of unease.] I have to say I'm enjoying it here most of all.
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[Fully lucid or not, there is one thing that strikes Aubrey as off:
[“I find myself drawn to you.” “I’m enjoying it here most of all.”
[Is he kissing her ass?]
Yeah… I guess it’s nice. Despite how it started. [“Nice.” Melancholy, too, for her. But it doesn’t show in the world; only in how she says the word, “nice,” a sorry consolation. She really doesn’t have the mind to linger. Strangely, it’s not a wholly unfamiliar feeling. Was that split really only two months ago?
[Time doesn’t matter here, maybe. There’s only forward.]
[Not far off the shore is a red-checked blanket, though the basket is missing. Flowers are strewn across like a family picnic. Only two people are left.
[Aubrey seats herself, and motions for Akechi to join her. For the moment, the rest of the landscape is still.]
I’m tired of fighting. [She picks idly at a few stems, playing with the idea of weaving them. Doesn’t commit just yet.] You must be— I mean, we’re both from normal worlds, right? Even as a detective, you probably didn’t have to fight.
[The run-in with Danger implies as much. But that doesn’t sound right, either. He kept them safe....]
cw: violent thoughts yeehaw
The blanket is new - a feature that blinks into existence in a manner so picturesque, he thinks it's something from a book instead of her memories. He joins all the same - sitting politely by the edge as he watches her pick at the flowers.]
Suffice to say while you may be tired of it, please remember you still have to. Your dream is a reprieve, but reality requires it.
[But-
"you probably didn't have to fight" is true. He didn't have to.
He chose to walk into Mementos with blade and gun, turn people's souls into muck and ash, press a gun to the head of his 'friend' and watch the drip, drip, drip of blood pepper the ground.
No, he didn't have to. Wasn't forced to. But he did, he does, and he will continue until Shido's head is laying at his feet.]
A rowdy perpetrator wasn't uncommon - however, I'm unaccustomed to this degree of battle. It's quite tiring at times.
:)
[“Please remember you still have to.” She might take some offense to that, if she was awake, more agitated. The unreality of it all would, should irritate her; “quite tiring,” an understatement. Aubrey’s been sleep-deprived for a while.
[Maybe it’s only okay with her because it’s coming from her. Because Aubrey doesn’t have nightmares, not bad enough to recall. Because maybe everyone likes to escape in their dreams, whether they remember or not.
[Akechi envisions a head. A breeze, and leaves and paper drift by in an autumn chill. Wrong season for that; Aubrey’s frown tenses. She must have forgotten to close the window again, or the patch blew off from where the birds swarmed in; Sunny’s got an awful lot of papers crammed under his couch, and she’s tried not to look, but they go astray at times.
[A sketch lands at Akechi’s feet.]
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No hesitation, plastered smile glued in place, the sole of his shoe covering the bloody head of a man. The childish drawing is too simple, but he-
Shifts. Ignores it. Presses all his weight into the bloody neck, bleeding eyes, the image of Shido that's meant for him and him alone.
It might not be Shido. It's definitely Shido. He can't handle the fact that it's Shido.
A calm dream tainted by him, a part of him recognizing that it's his presence causing it.
Isn't that typical.]
We're waking up.
[Sudden and tense.]
My apologies, but I worry if you stay asleep too long, something might happen. You may have collapsed in a dangerous place.
[They're leaving.]
Please find a way to do so.
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[Aubrey doesn’t have a second to look at the image; it’s only leftover intuition that told her it was Sunny’s drawing, but that’s not right at all. Akechi crushes it with prejudice. Subconscious upset. She trusts him.]
I don’t remember collapsing.
[Again—disruption prompting wakefulness, or at least awareness. Aubrey’s on her feet in an instant, and the overgrowth closes in. It never fully went away. It’s the wrong season; summer at home, cold here, and just like that first month, there’s no defense. What’s next, a swarm of snow angels—?
[Thoughts are dangerous. Forget the flowers. Aubrey grabs Akechi’s wrist and bolts, grabbing her weapon along the way—a stick, gnarled and pathetic. It’s nothing. It won’t save him.]
You’re the one with dream experience! [It’s his fault.] How do you wake up?
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They're running now - her grasping his wrist like he wouldn't keep up otherwise. A stick for protection. He doesn't need saving, she does, but the old adage of dying in real life if you die in a dream-
It's not true. He's dreamed enough to know it.
He isn't bothered by their current situation - a shitty sequel to the events of a few weeks ago. It must be a raw wound for her. Dragged, but he lacks the fear she's exuding. If they die, they die. If they live, they live. Waking up is the priority now.]
You're generously overestimating how much I know about this. I've been dragged into them - I can't recall how to leave, though if it's like a normal dream...
[Being jolted awake. A sudden fear. Maybe death is the answer now.]
Please release my arm.
1/2
[Akechi talks, and he’s not panicked; Aubrey slows, but she’s not calmed. He has a request. She shakes her head.]
No. No, I can’t let y—
[A raw wound. Death is the answer. She drops, and the arm falls to the—no, the stick, it was—an arm—a bone—a writhing, maggot-infested thing chunk of torn meat it—crawled in years ago it must have died there under piles of garbage and rotted away like an abandoned toy it’s a rabbit it’s a pet a dog an animal human dead gone gone—
2/2
[Aubrey wakes up to a wilting tendril wrapped around her arm. Its thorns have long shriveled, but they prick like soft teeth anyway. Figures....
[A few mintues later, a text for Akechi:]
Hey. Did you have a weird dream?
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A disgusting arm consumed by rot being gripped by a girl who did everything to protect the origin of it, only to pay for it in nightmares.
That's what she gets for playing the hero. For having friends. For saving someone pathetic and worthless.]
No, I've been awake for some time.
[The wriggling maggots are phantoms across his own flesh.]
Sometimes stress can play a part in weird dreams. Please do your best to take care of yourself.
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