Who: Siren's Port
When: The night of Wednesday, October 19th into the morning of Thursday, October 20th.
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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This time it felt so much worse. Those things she heard, amongst the many things she heard in the course of the dream, those words that would make her flinch if they were real.
She pulls the blanket over her head and coils into a little ball.
She feels cold, and she can't get warm.]
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She gropes for it, and then pulls it out, keeping her voice low so she doesn't wake Naminé.]
H... hello?
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Xion. [He swallows, then clears his throat roughly, almost awkwardly.]
I... never actually said that to you did I? [He doesn't remember that, but could it have been something Naminé missed? Would Naminé have left that out to spare him some guilt? Would he really have been so hateful? He knows he's certainly capable of meanness but he endeavors to only use it when it's absolutely necessary.]
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Daedalus groans, a low and agreeing sound, frustrated with the lack of good rest over the past few nights, nightmare-ridden catnaps which end up with more tension in his over-tired limbs than he needs.
Nodding, although he doesn't really want to show the lines of anxiety still creasing on his brow, he turns himself around in Franz's arms into 'little spoon' position, wriggling himself flushed back to front before tucking up his knees into a curl. It feels safer this way, feeling the warmth of breath at the nape of his neck. "Yes. I think so. Are you?"
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"It was yours, wasn't it?"
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What had that dream been? No - that nightmare. William runs his fingers though his hair, trying to piece it all together. There was red. Everywhere. And a feeling a deep, deep guilt. ]
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Thus he reaches out, in his sleep, for his chainsaw! ]
RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!
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Something about this seems to awaken that nightmare even more. ]
Grell, wake up.
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YOU!
I'll kill you!
[ He swings the chainsaw. It would be a deadly, well-aimed blow - except Grell's eyes are closed. He's swinging at the figure in his mind, not the one in his bed. ]
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