71. [Action/Video] Backdated to Sunday afternoon.

[foolishwren]

<sub>[You know when you wake up and you feel like there's a leaden weight sitting on your chest, stopping you from moving? Most of the time when that happens, it's because of sleep paralysis. Somewhat less of the time, it's a close encounter of the third kind. ... This time, however, it's a very large Furret curled up neatly in the middle of Heather's chest, taking advantage of the fact that her trainer both produces heat and is stationary and comfortable, AND of the fact that there is currently a brief moment in which nobody is looking over in this direction to shoo her away.]

[... Except that Heather's not going to be stationary much longer.]

[The first thing that happens that disrupts the vacant, sleeping stupor of Heather's face is a wince and a scrunched nose, because fluffy Furret tails are not the best things to have brushing up against your nostrils when you're coming out of a deep sleep.]</sub>

Nhngngnh...

<sub>[Ffffh what was-- what. Oh, ow. Opening eyes that haven't seen light in a good seven days kind of hurts. And trying to talk through a throat that hasn't made a single noise kind of hurts too, which is why all that Heather manages at first is a sort of croak.]

[But that croak is enough to get SOMEBODY'S attention.]

[From the foot of the bed, Cujo snorts into wakefulness from where he's been faithfully sleeping on his trainer's ankles. With a deep wuff, he surges to his feet and joyfully clambers over the blanketed body, stepping on Arty and causing her to vacate her perch atop Heather's chest with an indignant hiss, until he's standing over her with a great big doggy smile and a paw on either side of her.]

[Heather squints up at him, scrunching up her face. On one hand, the sight of those floppy orange ears and big black nose is one for sore eyes, but on the other... oh god does she not want to see a dog right now after the kinds of dreams she'd been having...]

[Coughing and lifting her arms weakly, she tries to shove him away long enough for her to get her bearings.]</sub>

Cooj, gimme some spac-- acklPHTHG OFF.

_{[No force in this world or any other could stop Cujo from greeting his favorite human being's return to wakefulness with lots of licking. Startled into a slightly more awake state, Heather makes a still-sleepy noise of disgust and shoves feebly at the Growlithe, scooting away.]}

Dammit, mutt, I mean i--

_{[Turns out, trying to slip out of bed after not moving for a week? Hurts, too. WHOMP. Face, meet hotel room floor. And possibly part of Henry's sleeping bag.]}

[VIDEO]

_{[A few minutes later, presumably after proving sufficiently to her father that she's not DEAD, the feed clicks on, revealing a very, very bedraggled Heather who looks like she went a week WITHOUT sleeping instead of spending the whole time unconscious.]}

Mornin'.... what'd I miss?



_{[ooc: Because the nightmare threads will likely affect CR pretty strongly, I'll tag them as long as anybody wants/it takes them to be finished! I'm also fine with discussing their outcomes, though, if anyone needs a conclusion right away.]}

Comments

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

Yeah, it...

[He fidgets, chewing on a hangnail that's gotten a little bit bloody over the last day or so. That's not working out so well, so he just... finds something else to put in his mouth. An eclair? Awesome.]

Heather...? Have you ever been called... holy, or any sort of derivation of that?

[foolishwren]

....

<sub>[Yeah, you bet she's falling into silence at that.]

[She's already been getting some weird deja vu vibes... and he's also not the first one to have mentioned something she most definitely did NOT remember telling him.]</sub>

Depends.

Where did you hear that?

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

I didn't. I saw it, on posters...

[How else can he put this? He can't really think of a way to hint at it without stating it bluntly and explicitly, and as it is, he really does believe that it's the best approach.]

[foolishwren]

.... Posters.

_{[She has a feeling that she already knows the answer... but she asks anyway.]}

Posters where?

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

The Shedinjas, when there were nightmares...

[Oh just describing this is difficult. Like most dreams, it's the feeling of it all having been so vivid and making so much sense while it was happening, but being nearly impossible to relate to someone else.]

Sorry. It was probably nothing. Nightmares can be anything, can't they?

[foolishwren]

_{[Heather pauses for a moment... then sighs heavily and shakes her head.]}

Not those ones.

_{[Those ones had all been significant... all of them.]}

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

You don't think so...?

It was a town with a red sky. I saw the posters right before a dog with a split head started chasing me.

[foolishwren]

_[God...]

... Yeah.

That was mine.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

I... thought it might have been...

[There's an awkward, uncertain silence as L does his best to play this off as no big deal. He likely fails miserably.]

I thought it was yours.

[foolishwren]

_{[It's okay, L... the awkward silence is coming from Heather, too.]}

.... Sorry.

That you got caught up in it. ... Whatever it was.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

Why are you apologizing? You're behaving like you had some say in all that happened, and I can't imagine that you did...

[foolishwren]

Of course I didn't. I don't, like, blame myself, or something.

But I'm sorry for anyone who has to see that place.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

You know... there are awful things. In a lot of worlds, so... I think that if you weren't sorry, someone else would be, for something else in some other world.

Seriously. Try not to feel bad...

[foolishwren]

Heh... easier said than done.

But don't worry. I don't feel guilty.

_{[Bad, yes. Guilty... no. There were certain things that Heather felt she needed to take responsibility for... but overall she wasn't very into the whole self-blame deal.]}

... So.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

[Oh... all right. L understands. There is an inherent difference between "bad" and "guilty", and he can appreciate it.]

So...? We... agree never to talk about it again?

[foolishwren]

.... Do you want to talk about it?

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

[There's a really, really long pause.]

What's to talk about? It was a bad dream...

[L, guilty of suppressing? Never.]

[foolishwren]

_{[WELL, FAIR 'NUFF... She's not particularly interested in discussing the gory details. But she does lock eyes with L and speak, in a tone more serious than she's probably ever used with him.]}

My mind has never had to make anything up when it comes to the contents of my bad dreams.

... If you ever wind up in a backwoods town with a shady history, it might be a good idea to remember what you saw in there.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

[Oh, if it's Heather's dream in question, L wants to talk.]

I'm actually of the opinion that nothing is "made-up", at least, not entirely. The mind recycles bits and pieces of the world and reassembles them into visions. But... I do understand your point.

We can talk about your dream. Why were you burned?

[foolishwren]

<sub>[Well, she figures she's not gonna push him for explanations on his dream... even though the details are starting to filter in. Maybe eventually. But not right now.]

[Her answer is matter of fact, but still a bit vague-- just for now. She wants to see if he'll demand a more specific explanation. If he does? He just might get it.]</sub>

I've had bad experiences with burning.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

How bad, and at what point? You don't appear to have any scars, and I'd like to understand how that's possible.

[foolishwren]

<sub>[Oh boy. Questions that she literally cannot answer without the implicit expectation that whoever she's talking to will suspend their disbelief.]

[... But L saw the memories... and she'd seen his. She might as well come clean about... this.]

[But before she answers, she takes a deep breath, and then looks him dead in the eye. She wants there to be no mistake about her seriousness, no question of whether or not she might be joking and pulling his chain.]</sub>

Do you know what a phoenix is?

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

[It's fair to expect him to suspend his disbelief when he's borne witness to some very odd events and images. He's not likely to laugh at anything Heather has to say, and he meets her gaze with his own inky black one.]

A phoenix is a bird of the Sun. When it dies it burns to ashes, but is known for its ability to be reborn from those ashes.

[foolishwren]

It's a little like that, but not as romantic.

... I was seven.

[dead-black-eyes.livejournal.com]

[He tugs at a strand of his own black hair, the same shade as Alessa's had been.]

When you stopped being her, and became you? The same, but different?