muscovy: (discovery)
Muscovy Maglorion Prochainezo | bb!Russia ([personal profile] muscovy) wrote in [community profile] hadriel_logs2017-02-05 06:58 pm
Entry tags:

Look, I'm helpful :)

Who: Muscovy & Rey
What: Just checking in on Mommy having a nightmare.
Where: Rey's bedroom.
When: 1st of February
Warnings: tba

It's not the first night that Rey is having a nightmare (and yes, he knows this because he has checked in on her. If you bring a stepping stool and then stretch to get on her windowsill, it's really not that hard to just happen to be looking into her room at night). But this night, it seems to be especially bad.

She looks like she needs to be woken from it. A good friend and family member will wake her.

So he does the reasonable thing and very quietly opens her window - you just need to shove a paper through the narrow slit between window and wall, it's practically open - and climbs inside, letting himself drop down to the ground and then wandering over to her bed to prod her.
circumitus: Seriously. Its 80 proof rum that was 8 bucks for a liter. I'm afraid. (you don't want any of i have)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-05 09:53 pm (UTC)(link)
Bad dreams and restless nights have become so commonplace that Rey doesn't even wake up screaming anymore. Not that that's an option right now.

Despite having gone to sleep in bed sitting upright, back propped to the wall, at some point she's rolled onto the cold, hard floor. Face up, mouth agape and gasping for air, lungs tightening, throat dry and sore. Her hands are pulled inwards, her body scrunched in a way one would when trapped in a closed, confined, and claustrophobic space.

The walls she feels around her are cold. Metal. Feelings of insect legs crawling on her skin. Worms digging into her insides. She wants to yell. Scream and cry and call for help. But no one is coming. And she can't breathe, anyway.

She can't breathe.

A final breath draws inward, and her eyes snap open to find a silhouette in her room.

Her immediate instinct is to grab it and snap their neck. She seizes Muscovy by the shirt first, giving the boy a violent yank.
circumitus: I held one once. Then I washed my hands and rinsed my mouth out with wine. (babies are disgusting)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-08 12:02 am (UTC)(link)
Reality doesn't take long to settle in. By then, Rey's clasped the collars of Muscovy's outfit, her teeth grinding together and expression twisted with rage. Features which freeze, and then melt into confusion when the dream-thoughts start to fade away.

"Muscovy?" She eases her grip, and leans back a little. "What... the hell are you doing here?"
circumitus: I honestly wish I could say that I was surprised. (so you threw a sword at me last night)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-08 11:47 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh. So that's what this is about.

Rey can't help but feel marginally embarrassed. She's supposed to be better than this.

"You don't have to sneak in here for that. I'm used to it," she says as she releases him entirely. She also realizes that that might not have been the most consoling response. "Plus, I could have hurt you."

Haven't you heard what they say about 'let sleeping dogs lie', Muscovy?
circumitus: Insert Warmer song lyrics here. (Default)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-09 02:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Rather than being comforted by that food for thought, Rey just frowns at Muscovy.

"Just because you can doesn't mean that I want it to happen."

It's hard enough just trying not to be a safety hazard for the people she cares about. Immortal or no, she doesn't want to cause undo harm to them. Regardless of her state of mind.
circumitus: its people like u that make people like me go to rehab. he has a lazy eye for christ sakes. (your girlfriend is a south jersey whore)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-10 02:19 am (UTC)(link)

"You don't have to worry about that. Your safety is more important than stupid dreams." Even if they aren't all that stupid to her while she's experiencing them at the time.
circumitus: She literally cut my boxers off with a 8" chef's knife and had her way with me. (tomorrow never knows)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-11 05:22 am (UTC)(link)
"That doesn't m--"

But she stops, her jaw tightening in frustration.

Abruptly her hand slaps over her face, and she releases a sharp breath. "Just... don't fight me on this, okay? I'd rather just die than hurt any more people for no reason."
circumitus: Keep up the good work. (it's a 12/12/12 miracle)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-16 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
And letting her hurt someone she cares about just because they won't die isn't a much better option.

So where does that leave them?

"Different how?" Rey asks warily, not sure what the alternatives entail.
circumitus: its people like u that make people like me go to rehab. he has a lazy eye for christ sakes. (your girlfriend is a south jersey whore)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-17 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
"Yes," she agrees. "That would be better. Not that much a heavy sleeper, anyway."

Rey is the type of person who snaps awake at a fly farting. A phone call would definitely be enough.
circumitus: We know how you feel. (kid you're lost in the wheel)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-19 01:24 am (UTC)(link)

She'd much rather he do that than startle her into clubbing him with a lamp or something. But now that she's awake and lucid, she is definitely huggable.

Or, at least as huggable as someone like Rey can be. It didn't seem to be an issue with Muscovy before, though.
circumitus: She literally cut my boxers off with a 8" chef's knife and had her way with me. (tomorrow never knows)

[personal profile] circumitus 2017-02-21 03:20 pm (UTC)(link)
It does take a moment for her nerves to settle. She's been tense since before awakening, still alert and of a mind to fight something. Anything.

Rey would just rather it not be Muscovy.

At this point she should expect it, but even now she is caught by surprise when the small child climbs onto her her, once she is resting upright with her back propped against the wall. This is how she normally sleeps. But she wasn't having a normal dream.

She mulls over Muscovy's question, not sure how to answer or if there is even one swirling about in her head.

"Lots of things," she says at last, quiet and vague. "Reminders, usually. Memories. Things I try to forget."

But can't, when you've got a brain like hers that soaks information and experience like a sponge.