[Mission 02 | BACKDATED LIKE WHOA]
Who: Omi (1blackcat) and Youji (slantedcross)
Where: Omi's room, shortly after his arrival.
Style: Third
Status: Closed
Omi couldn't sleep.
It wasn't for lack of need; his body was quite firmly in the category of needed rest. His eyes even felt the familiar heaviness of fatigue. He lay in a comfortable bed in a cozy room. His body was clean and dry, his wounds were dressed, his room was even mere steps from Youji, Ken and Aya, just like it was back home.
He just couldn't delude himself, not even for a few seconds, into the belief it actually was home. From the minute he'd arrived, this world had proven itself in defiance of reality nearly to the point of trauma. A talking scarecrow, a piece of tech that spontaneously appeared in his pocket and far outstripped anything he'd ever seen before, a castle and a mountain magically suspended in the sky. A best friend that had no memory of recent events that Omi knew and several memories of recent events that Omi did not know. A teammate that no longer looked anything like he remembered and that even claimed to be from his future.
How was anyone supposed to sleep after all of that?
He should have taken some medicine for it, but the truth was, Omi wasn't even sure he wanted to sleep. Needed to, absolutely, but there was far too much to stew on. Why were they there? What exactly was the world, a giant collective dream? An illusion? How did anything as heavy as a mountain float in the sky? What happened if someone died there? What if someone died in the "real world" which they'd supposedly never actually left? How did they come from different points in time and yet all exist in the same time here? ...What would happen if he dreamed about something dangerous?
Omi shrunk in on himself under the covers at that final terrifying thought. With so many questions and worries flooding his mind, he almost didn't even hear the creak of the door. His senses hadn't fully left him, however, and after a couple of seconds, he started slightly and sat up halfway. His eyes glued to the door, his throat dry as desert sand, he called out.
"Who's there...?"
Where: Omi's room, shortly after his arrival.
Style: Third
Status: Closed
Omi couldn't sleep.
It wasn't for lack of need; his body was quite firmly in the category of needed rest. His eyes even felt the familiar heaviness of fatigue. He lay in a comfortable bed in a cozy room. His body was clean and dry, his wounds were dressed, his room was even mere steps from Youji, Ken and Aya, just like it was back home.
He just couldn't delude himself, not even for a few seconds, into the belief it actually was home. From the minute he'd arrived, this world had proven itself in defiance of reality nearly to the point of trauma. A talking scarecrow, a piece of tech that spontaneously appeared in his pocket and far outstripped anything he'd ever seen before, a castle and a mountain magically suspended in the sky. A best friend that had no memory of recent events that Omi knew and several memories of recent events that Omi did not know. A teammate that no longer looked anything like he remembered and that even claimed to be from his future.
How was anyone supposed to sleep after all of that?
He should have taken some medicine for it, but the truth was, Omi wasn't even sure he wanted to sleep. Needed to, absolutely, but there was far too much to stew on. Why were they there? What exactly was the world, a giant collective dream? An illusion? How did anything as heavy as a mountain float in the sky? What happened if someone died there? What if someone died in the "real world" which they'd supposedly never actually left? How did they come from different points in time and yet all exist in the same time here? ...What would happen if he dreamed about something dangerous?
Omi shrunk in on himself under the covers at that final terrifying thought. With so many questions and worries flooding his mind, he almost didn't even hear the creak of the door. His senses hadn't fully left him, however, and after a couple of seconds, he started slightly and sat up halfway. His eyes glued to the door, his throat dry as desert sand, he called out.
"Who's there...?"