this may hurt a little, but it's something you'll get used to

[deludingothers]

[It's just a bedroom; the same, plain one as always. Planned to move or not, Allen was still in the west wing, in the same room he'd ended up with when he arrived

Comments

[sleepingpath]

[This one is sleepwalking again. Fortunately for Allen, he's been spared the dreaming massacre. He's leaning against the door, though, peering blankly into the room.]

[Wait, this room isn't his.]

[deludingothers]

[...oh? He's heard this song before, however dimly. It had been one of the prettier ones~

Turning his head to look at the brownsprout, head just slightly tilted, in a way that's rather obvious he's listening. This... vampire thing, plus the music, it was terribly odd, and he can't quite tell if the poor Allen is awake or not.]

Sit before you topple over, sleep walker.

[sleepingpath]

[Hey may be asleep, but there are.... voices - songs? - that make him bristle. You aren't Hobollen. You should be, but you aren't.]

[The dead don't like you much, bro.]

... not my room.

[deludingothers]

[They've never had much reason to like him. And he certainly should be Hobollen, but that's where that dear bratty sister of mine comes in, doesn't she?]

No, it isn't. But I don't much feel like cleaning you off the floor. So sit.

[sleepingpath]

[Clinging to the doorway, before running his hand over the wall. It's blank, here, perfect for writing. Maybe drawing.]

[His head cocks to the side, hearing something that Neah can't, before he reaches up to start scribbling. It looks like a picture, first.]

He's gone?

[deludingothers]

[Stepping closer, if only to see what Allen has started to draw-- though the smile does drift from his faze as he does.]

I don't know.

[sleepingpath]

[It looks like a flower, for now.]

... locked away...

[He slows down in his drawing, if only for a moment. Hobollen ;;]

[deludingothers]

[...]

...Yes. He was.

I haven't found the keys yet.

[sleepingpath]

[The dead talk, man. They say to draw a flower, so he's going to draw a flower.]

... won't hurt him, right?

[All things considering, it's a very genuine question. If the way he glances back in Reseteenth means anything, no matter how disconnected that look might be.]

[deludingothers]

[Reaching up to trace over a few of the petals with a fingertip. Stupid ghosts. The dead should stay dead, forgotten and rotting.]

...No. I won't let him be hurt while I'm out.

[sleepingpath]

[If it means anything, many wish that they could be at peace. Allen looks satisfied at the answer, however. The crayon slips from his fingers and onto the floor.]

Hurts too much like he is.

[He turns awkwardly from the wall to pad toward Hobollen's bed.]

[deludingothers]

[No. Not really.

...ah. He almost looks guilty at that, in an odd sort of way; Like recalling something he did a long time ago.

For the moment Neah just watches the sleep walker move toward his host's bed, and once he's at least sat down, he tilts his head.]

...Are you staying here? [For the moment; now.]

[sleepingpath]

Waiting for him.

[Sleeper smooths his hand over the blankets in a fond sort of way.]

Might need help coming back.

[deludingothers]

[He watches the gesture, head still tilted to the side. But after a moment he does nod, expression close to understanding; sympathetic.]

...I don't know if you can help. But that's fine.

[sleepingpath]

[He shakes his head. No, he doesn't think he can help, either.]

He might get lost again.

[deludingothers]

[...]

If he dies, you mean.