one day, you will understand. but that day is not today.

[thepull_mods]

Who: Siren's Port
When: The night of Thursday, October 20th into the morning of Friday, October 21st.
Where: In the mind, in the dreams, in the unconscious of the sleepers.
Summary: The final night.
Warnings: These dreams may be considered not safe for work, with violence, gore, death, underlying sexual themes and other mentions of graphic nature.

Comments

reaction/text;

[gotsomebadnoose]

[the listless spirit coasts silently through the quiet home. It's been a few days now since...since then and he thinks that maybe- maybe if he floats into the kitchen he'd find Veser rooting around in the freezer for another thing of ice cream, but he's not there and Lee know precisely why he hasn't come home yet.

He sure fucked things up this time.

He stares out the window and thinks about everything else he dreamed of; experiences he knows weren't his and names he'd never even heard of before.

Lee's restless thoughts turn to green eyes and a lullaby he'd sometimes hear when he crept around the house when SHE was there...

He's not quite sure what makes him pull out his NV and begin to sullenly type. Maybe it was the half-possessed notion that a certain someone he knew would forgive him (stupid thought. He'd never forgive him. Not after what happened and what he did).]

i dreamed again

text;

[sealbait]

[When he hears his NV beep and sees Lee's name on the screen, Veser hesitates. He hasn't spoken to Lee since Sunday...hasn't really left Soul's couch since then actually.

He stares at the short message for what seems like hours when only a few minutes have passed. Slowly, almost carefully, he types out a response.]

you too?

text;

[gotsomebadnoose]

[a pang and he's already wishing that he hadn't sent anything. Just let the churning thoughts swirl and tumble.]

yeah
saw your mother saw people i didn't know
felt like i did

text;

[sealbait]

[His stomach is turbulent. He's afraid to text Lee back. Lee, the one adult he used to trust, who'd come to parent-teacher conferences in his father's place, who'd eaten junk food with him and let him drink his first beer on his eighteenth birthday.

Veser was afraid of one of his best friends and it was his own fault.]

me too
it was weird

text;

[gotsomebadnoose]

[it takes ten minutes before the next text comes through.]

you okay ves?

text;

[sealbait]

no
it was my fault
im so sorry
yeah
you?

text;

[gotsomebadnoose]

don't worry about me
i'm fine

[no he's not. He's more mopey than usual. A wreck. He blames himself for what happened. If he had just...kept in control...

-and the things he keeps remembering when they're not his to recall...]

hope thy've been treating you alrit over there

[he's shaking and he doesn't even notice]

text;

[sealbait]

[It takes him a second to read through the typos and five more minutes to figure out what to say.]

they have
fucking kittens keep trying to steal my socks though

[He picks up the blanket Maka had lent him off the floor and cocoons himself in it. It'll still be a few hours before everyone else is awake.]

text;

[gotsomebadnoose]

[Lee stands at the window sill, looking outside. He saw his own reflection, a reminder of what he's become. He feels the noose around his neck and god he wants to take it off so bad. He thinks about how things could've been if the plan had worked, if Vanessa got her pelt back.

It hurts to think about, so he doesn't think anymore. Let it fall back. Forget things that hurt and pretend they'll go away.]

i'm sorry

text;

[sealbait]

dont be
it wasnt your fault
it was mine

text;

[gotsomebadnoose]

i hurt you like he did

[Lee wishes wishes so fucking much that he could just melt away. Fade away and if he has to be dead then he'd better be dead dead, but then he couldn't take care of Ves so he tries to shake those thoughts free too. He wants everything to go back to how they were.]

text;

[sealbait]

[It takes almost fifteen minutes for Veser to reply. He has to keep backspacing and retyping because his hands are shaking too badly to text properly.]

i shouldve said something about the crowbar
i shouldve known it might set you off
i deserved it
it wasn't your fault

[Old habits die hard.]