Who: Siren's Port
When: The night of Tuesday, October 18th into the morning of Wednesday, October 19th.
Where: In the mind, in the dreams, in the unconscious of the sleepers.
Summary: --
Warnings: These dreams may be considered not safe for work, with violence, gore, death, underlying sexual themes and other mentions of graphic nature. Having them
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She had nightmares of the Infected before. Here and there. They weren't dreams she ever liked to have but she tried to deal with them and remember she was somewhere safe. It was easier after that. But now, and THAT? Now she had to remind herself all over again.
The producer sat against her backboard, trying to calm herself. The safety of gripping the pistol hidden in her nightstand was suddenly very tempting, but she mentally kept herself from it. Obviously the dreams weren't focused on her, but she wasn't stupid. She knew what one was about. It already reminded her too much of what she already didn't want to think about. Finally she got out of bed, walked into the kitchen, and turned the lights on.
It wasn't too early in the morning to make herself some coffee, right?
Eventually she would mull this over better in her head once. And, you know, not make it about her. Once she could freak out less about remembering what she didn't want to think about.]
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Oh, that's--Emma Frost, wasn't it?]
Hey.
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Oh, god. I'd love you if you did--please. And thanks. [No smile, but for all the lack of humor Rochelle at least gave Emma a grateful nod.]
Emma, right?
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Emma, yes. Rochelle, I assume?
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Yeah. I moved in about a week ago now.
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