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[crittersheep]

WHO: all
WHERE: all
WHEN: Day 9, evening into night

[the sun goes down; the two moons rise.

it all looks...quite different. the laundromat lengthens and transforms the silhouette of Woolietown in the distance. the lighthouse beacon comes to life for the first time, throwing strong, brilliant light and stark shadows across the meadow and into the barns. the lazy river encircles the pasture in a glittering band, the bobbing shapes of the pool toys a little bit eerie until they drift into full view.

perhaps some of you are winding down. perhaps some of you are just gearing up for a wild adventure in the shadows. perhaps some of you, regardless of if you sleep or stay up, find your dreams and nightmares crawling out beyond the bounds of your own head tonight, drawing others in...

the night is full of possibilities.]

Comments

[endsjustified]

[yeah, he'd laugh pretty hard.

this is why Charon doesn't like to practice anything like altruism normally. fucking ow. he is pretty sure he is dying again. he hopes dying in a dream doesn't kill him in real life, because he's going to feel really stupid if that happens.

with whatever strength he's got left, he's going to grab Styx's collar, the rough cloth of his glove rasping against Styx's throat, dragging his face close. there's nothing tragic about the picture Charon makes gut-shot, not really; that deep cold fury is still in his eyes, etched in the lines of his face, transcending pain.]

You.

[ohlord]

[aaand he's just letting himself get manhandled, really, mostly because he's not even sure what Charon's gonna do but once again, his hands are covered in blood and he didn't even want to and why is this happening he's so tired--]

--why didn't you turn the gun on me, idiot?!

[endsjustified]

[it's wild how much Charon can still make his words drip with disdain when his mouth is literally dripping blood and his body is bullet-shattered, actually]

Because. If I let you kill yourself again. How am I to remind you you're alive.

[ohlord]

Not by letting me kill you!

[but then he would have killed the kids and THIS IS WHY. HE HATES THIS SO FUCKING MUCH.]

[endsjustified]

Bold of you to assume...you could ever be my true end, Styx of Lily.

[he could possibly wake them by physical violence here, he gauges, in the cold metronomic area of his mind that never stops ticking on, ticking on, ticking on, even when the rest of him is forced into shutdown or panic, that will only stop the day he really dies. he rather wants to enact some physical violence on his teammate. he is very tired and very done and in an immense amount more pain than he bargained for tonight.

it's what a fighter might do, or a certain kind of hero. he is neither. that's not his way.]

I assure you. That proving myself to you. Won't involve that. No matter how many times...you might play it in your head, self-defeating. I suggest...you take it to heart, in the real world.

Your wielders are a world away. You are only a tool...if you keep letting yourself be used like one.

[he's laboring to get the words out, and by the end they're probably growing hard to hear. he tries to make them land like blows, anyway.]