ᴏɴᴇ ✄ something's wrong

[ghostpsychosis]

[[OOC: Warning's for slight violence.]]

[It was like a heartbeat. Each passing moment, heartbeats. The steady rhythmic thump that would normally seem so calming, especially when sleeping, was a sure sign something was wrong. Everything was quiet besides the thump-thump. Then a gun is being cocked. Bang. Shotgun. That's what it is.

Thump-thump. Heart

Comments

[waterfell]

She's everywhere, but she's not Violet. She's an Asian girl instead, with dark hair and darker eyes and a sly smile - and of course, a school uniform. She never seems to quite look directly at him, face always hidden in profile at best.

She's there in the school hallway, where she traces a finger down her face, as if to draw attention to the blood on Tate's. She's there in the library, sitting on a table next to the one he looks under - surprise! not Violet.

She's in the basement. She holds out her hands as if to catch the ball.

[ghostpsychosis]

Tate looks at the girl, frowning. Who was she, and why was she in his dream? Purposefully, he drops the ball to the floor, glaring at her. She didn't belong here.

"Why are you here?" His voice is soft, but harsh. He's feeling rather defensive, which is understandable, considering a girl he's never met in his life is standing right in front of him.

[waterfell]

"Who knows?" In that breezy, airy tone, it might be a true admission of futility, or it might simply be enjoying hiding it from him. Her lips quirk upward as the ball rolls away across the floor.

"You should greet a guest properly," she tells Tate.

[ghostpsychosis]

Tate practically sneers at her tone. He takes a defensive step towards her, but he's not entirely sure what he should do. He's killed a girl before, but he didn't know her. He didn't know this girl, either. Dreams were dreams. It's not like she was real.

"Why are you here?" He's repeating himself, and his voice is louder, taking up more of the room. He may be thin, but with a straight posture and a set glare, he's threatening.

[butwedonot]

[ Even with everything so distinctly wrong in his head, he knows this isn't his dream-- he doesn't know these places that well, hasn't been to some of them, the blood is there but it isn't cloying. However, he's less alarmed than he should be; it wouldn't be the first time his mind has drifted off during slumber and allowed him access to another's dreams. Not the first time he had another mind twined with his own, it was curious but not enough to make him run away. Instead he watches with that detached curiosity that was probably entirely unnatural.

He can't help but focus on the ball, he's seen them, occasionally brushed his fingers against the hard rubber surface when he was walking through the stores behind Raven. He wants to touch it now, but knows he can't, or rather shouldn't, instead he lifts his head and focuses on the person whom holds it. Not someone he knows, again, another stranger in his head. ]

It's too dark in here.

[ghostpsychosis]

[Tate's head darts in his direction, and staring at him with a set glare. He's not scared that the man's in his head, but he's confused, more confused than he's ever been. He clenches the ball in his hand, shifting his weight. A small amount of light filters in from the windows at the mention of it being too dark, by it's not by much. Tate just wants to see who's here.]

I don't know you, so why are you here?

[butwedonot]

[ Charles remains unfettered by the glare, it wasn't a concern of his really; all he wanted to do was inspect things, he's wandered off into someone's dreams again-- it's something that's happened to him a time or two before so he doesn't feel as bothered as others might. He looks to the ball again, fingers twitching but his own movements stilled, ]

I don't know. [ He reaches out a little before thinking better of it and retracting his hands. ] I must have wandered in.

[ghostpsychosis]

[The general softness of this man's attitude made Tate relax, but only a bit. He was incredibly untrusting of this sort of thing -- he wasn't used to it at all. The only sort of 'inside your head' thing he got was a shrink who was ... sort of doing his job.]

Are you real?

[He doesn't want to be any more crazy that he actually was, especially after his first encounter with the girl. It's not fun.]

[thatoldthatkind]

[ The Doctor leans against the wall of the basement without a word. Then he licks his finger and holds it up to the ceiling. It was normally a way to test for winds, but this is the Doctor, nothing is as it really is supposed to be.

Especially snowglobes.

But, he left his back in the TARDIS, ]

[ghostpsychosis]

[Tate walks closer to the other man, eyes narrowed, head tilted to the side in question. He's not especially pleased with him being in his dream, but he wasn't pleased most of the time, so he's trying to deal with it.

Sort of. Not really, at all.]

What are you doing?

[Not so much about the testing of the winds part, either. Either explain yourself, or get out. That's how Tate sees it.]

[thatoldthatkind]

Ssssh.

[ The Doctor holds up his other hand to Tate's face. Hush now. Doing scientific alien things. ]

[ghostpsychosis]

Don't shush me.

[He's a little closer now, but -- wait, how did he get so close to him? There were no footsteps, but it must have been a trick of the light. It was dark.]

You're not exactly making this any easier for either of us. Who are you?

[helpmeguideit]

[ Charles was initially drawn to the library, pulling books off of the shelves. They were from after his time, he realized, eyeing the copyright dates. There was a change in the scenery. The book was gone, and it was just a basement. It gave him a chill to realize that things were changing so rapidly. He turned on a heel, facing the boy that he could feel in the room here. He knew it was his dream. Everything was far too unfamiliar for him.

He stepped towards him, hands in his pockets. Whatever issues he had on his own were irrelevant to how busy this one's mind was. ]

Your mind is busy when you dream.

[ He doesn't sound surprised, but perhaps curious. ]

[ghostpsychosis]

[Tate's uncomfortable, and he hates being uncomfortable. His expression is blank, but there is a certain anger in his eyes. He's holding back on jumping the other man, he knew he could if he wanted to.

He hated the uneasy feeling that he got with this man in his head, so the only solution was to make the other uneasy, as well.]

Your mind is busy when you fuck, too. Did you know that?

[helpmeguideit]

[ Six months ago, that might have really bothered him. But now, he just stays calm, looked Tate over. Offers a half-smile. ]

I'm not here to fight.

[ghostpsychosis]

[Another calm figure, but it relaxes Tate, sort of. As much as it could, anyway.]

Really.