[OPEN] ❁ don't let it get the best of you, you'll make it out alive

[roseblooms]

WHO: Fawkes and YOU!
WHERE: All around Recolle during the nightmares/fog event!
WHEN: Various times in the month of October!
WHAT: Nightmares, fog encounters, and etc.
WARNINGS: Will be attached to the headers of various top-levels within!

Comments

[roseblooms]

I asked you a question.

[Unconcerned, he flicks his wrist and throws his handful of roses, aiming them at nothing at all yet somehow managing to skewer a half-dozen...somethings that used to be hanging in the air.

They explode, of course, but he seems equally unconcerned by that; Fawkes's lingering fear has flown, replaced solely by a pervasive confidence that evidently can't be ruffled by something as pithy as bombs.]

It's a fool who thinks he can cage me. In this world, fools die.

[originallutece]

[There. Rosalind feels her satisfaction grow as the bombs explode seemingly harmlessly in front of him.]

And I answered it. I'm not going to discuss the facets of my attraction to you while you're busy.

[But she is coming closer, glancing forward to see if she can spot the crow in question. Surely he's still around? But it's a dream; perhaps he's simply faded away.]

[roseblooms]

[He is still around, as a matter of fact; at least, the way that Youko's ears are pricking seems to indicate as much, as he appears to be tracking something that can't be seen down on the far side of the ring.]

When I'm finished, then.

[He extends an arm, bringing one clawed hand to hover in the air in front of her, forming a makeshift barricade designed to keep her behind him.]

It shouldn't take long.

[originallutece]

[She doesn't try and go forward, but she does peer forward. There's a shape in the gloom, vague and tall, but with no real identifying features that she can see.]

I imagine one of those roses piercing his throat would finish him off.

[roseblooms]

Perhaps. And if not, there are other ways of dealing with him.

[As if on cue, an explosion goes off in the air vaguely near to them, but this time he doesn't flinch the way he had when he was human, and trapped.

Instead, he simply reaches up into his hair again.]

Tedious.

[originallutece]

[She, however, flinches, and dislikes the fact she did. It's stupid to be afraid of something that isn't real, but unlike Youko (or Kurama, or Fawkes, or whomever it is she's standing here with), she hasn't any defenses against it.]

What ways are those?

[She glances up, frowning slightly. It's the most minor of points, but there's something very strange about the fact he stores his seeds there. How on earth do they stay put? Her fingers itch to find out, but Rosalind puts her hands behind her back instead.]

[roseblooms]

The ojigi.

[So he says, in his subconscious mind, because it knows the word even though consciously Fawkes really has no idea what it means or how it could be useful against the crow; he only knows that he's seen it in his memories, and that it'd worked, and that the name of what had worked was simply that: ojigi.

He shifts, sliding his foot along the ground before bringing it down in a swift stamp, and a few seconds later there's the ugly sound of writhing vines off in the distance, and a faint yell that comes accompanied by what might be the sound of bones cracking. Still, it's too far off to see anything of it; the horror, for the moment, is muted and nebulous.]

Hm. That was less interesting than the last time.

[originallutece]

Poor Youko.

[The crunch of bones and yowl of pain earns no reaction from Rosalind. She glances out into the darkness once more, half disappointed she can't get a glimpse of the crow, before turning back to him with a self-satisfied smile.]

Well, then. This turned out far better than the last time, hm? Can we leave the platform? I want to try something else before we wake up.

[roseblooms]

You never cease with your experiments, do you?

[Really, as far as the dream is concerned, the nightmare was vanquished from the moment that Rosalind persuaded him to become Youko again, so the fact that the enemy's demise and defeat is relatively anticlimactic is likely just another wonky facet of the subconscious — making some things important and other things decidedly not, regardless of whether they should be.

He shrugs at her, though, and extends his hand as if offering to assist her in getting down from it by implication.]

What do you want to try?

[originallutece]

I want to see if you can change our environment. Not the arena, but somewhere else. If this is a form of lucid dreaming, you ought to be able to.

[She takes his hand carefully; it's a dream, so she's unlikely to fall, but then again, it's not as if taking his hand is a hardship. Which reminds her . . .]

. . . and as for my attraction to you. I've told you before, it goes both ways. I like it when you're human, and I like it when you're like this; I'm hardly going to deny I find you appealing.