⊹ || invisible? (event/open)


Her mind was saying snap out of it over and over again like a broken record. ‘Snap out of it, Vanille! You have to do something!’ she thought. But it was hard enough to even move concerning what she just witnessed here. The fact that they were two of her left Vanille in a shock. That shouldn’t even be possible in the first place! Vanille was Vanille, end of story. No doppelganger could replace that.

“…please say I’m still dreaming.” she thought to herself, hoping that whatever she was experiencing was a cruel nightmare and she was still in the dark pathway somewhere sleeping. It might has well be a dream, Fang and the others weren’t the only ones that didn’t notice the real Vanille’s presence… the other people of the gallery didn’t seem to notice her either, which made the redhead feel even smaller.

Vanille found a little strength to move and walk a little, though the shock was still fresh. Needless to say, she wasn’t really watching where she was going, so imagine her surprise when someone bumped right into her. Recollecting herself, the Pulse native shook her head solemnly when the male apologized. “No, that’s alright. I should’ve been watching where I was going…. sorry.” she apologized back. Silly Vanille… this was no time to be clumsy. She then noticed that the boy that bumped into her was reaching in his pocket and offering whatever he took out to her. Was that… candy?

Was he worried about her? That was so nice of this stranger. “Thanks… really. I needed that pick-me-up.” she said with a weak smile, taking the small candy from his hands, though what he said was kind of weird. “Hm? What do you mean? I can see you just fine! As clear as day!” The lavender-haired boy didn’t look like anyone Vanille has seen before in either Cocoon or Gran Pulse, but she can see him just fine.

…wait a minute. Backtrack for one little minute. He saw her. Not just that, he offered her candy!

“…hold on, so you can see me!” she exclaimed, her face lighting up at this realization. “I can see you, and you can see me! We can see each other!” Vanille was relieved. Then, he must be from the gallery before, before Vanille saw ‘Fabricated World’. Then was he in the dark path somewhere too? Vanille couldn’t tell, it was dark and confusing in there.

But then… if he can see her, then… can he see the fake Vanille that left with the others too?

“Hey, mind if I ask you something? Did you see a girl that looked like me with a group of people?” Vanille asked, with that thought in mind.

Despite his fervent apologies, the other shook it off as if it were nothing, shaking her pink-tassled head and exclaiming she should have been the one to watch where she was go- wait. WAIT A MINUTE. Did she just speak back to him? S-she had! She honestly had! Which meant that she could hear him! Oh dear, he really hoped he hadn’t scared her, a ‘voice coming from nothing’ and all, but oh my goodness his heart was racing now in hope that someone actually could hear him!

This was a big ‘bright spot’ of hope in this horrible situation, indeed: at least now he wouldn’t feel as ‘ignored’, even if he probably still was the invisible man and the lady might be thinking she was crazy at hearing voices from nowhere. He certainly hoped he wasn’t frightening her, but maybe this young lady was very brave, because she didn’t seem fazed at all. He wished he could be that brave, often, but now was no time to feel sorry for himself. (Even if, had he been in the same situation and heard a voice coming from nowhere, he would have likely run screaming.)

Oh, oh! The situation got even brighter, when she looked down at the candy he held out, and Garry gasped at the girl confirming she could see him just fine, he finding himself so thrilled by the fact he wasn’t ‘all alone’ in this that he couldn’t prevent himself from skipping over to the other and wrapping his arms around them.

"O-oh, thank you, thank you, thank you! This might sound really odd, but you d-don’t know how wonderful it is to hear those words!”

Oh wait - AGAIN. Had he just…hugged a complete stranger? Oh dear, he had, hadn’t he? Finding his face turning as red as the candy wrapper he’d offered the other, he let go, stepping back like he’d touched hot coals.

"Oh no, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to invade you p-personal space like that…I got caught up in the moment.”

His nervous apologies aside, he blinked - the other having much the same reaction as he, being one of delight that ‘he could see her’ - oh? Was this young miss having the same ‘odd experience’ as he? it certainly did seem it. Then, that must mean she was someone who got stuck in the Fabricated World, too! Yes, he could see the rose the other held, now that he looked carefully.

"You…you got stuck in the Fabricated World too?"

That timid enquiry made, the pink-haired lass was quick to ask a query of her own.

"Yes, yes! As well as a nasty-looking version of myself. She gave me a rather nasty smirk. Like she KNEW nobody else could see or hear me, and she delighted in that fact. I’m…not very brave, so I didn’t really want to follow a scary-expression-wearing lady like her all by myself.”

That fact admitted, he mused:

"You seem a lot nicer than her, though. And I couldn’t ignore someone crying."

A pause then, before Garry said:

"Maybe this is some kind of trick of the Fabricated World. Oh, wait. I haven’t introduced myself. How rude! My name’s Garry - and it’s ever so lovely to find someone who can see and hear me again, let me say. Even if this whole situation is still really scary."

❝ ♔to return?↗ fw event&open!


He couldn’t even remember falling asleep at any point, honestly. He’d been so hellbent on not falling asleep in the other world, because there were so many other things that needed to be done, and rest wasn’t quite an option. But apparently he had — and when he finally woke up, he was greeted by white walls, and a white floor. There was even the sound of people chattering to be heard if he strained his ears to listen long enough ..

A second more to piece everything together, and the teenager jumped up from where he was sitting — he’d been leaning up against the wall right next to a painting that looked like a bunch of scribbles and paint-blotches. 

It was the “Fabricated World”. He didn’t even need to look over at the plaque beneath the painting to make sure. After what had happened to him the first time he looked at it, how could he forget what it looked like? The teenager shook his head, rubbed his eyes, even pinched himself — just to make sure that this wasn’t a dream, that it was real. And, he found after a minute or so, it was. It was all real.

Then .. everything was okay. He was back in the art gallery — no, he was home, and a nap was all it took to bring him back here. How silly he’d been for not going to sleep sooner! Maybe that was why he was so tired in the first place — his body was trying to tell him the way out of that other place. A laugh escaped his lips as he started down the hall, though, it sounded more exhausted than it did humored. How long had he spent in that other place, anyway? Minutes, hours? His sense of time felt like it had been warped back there, and it didn’t help that he hadn’t had a watch on him. So he couldn’t quite recall how long it had been, but it didn’t matter. He was back, and all he had to do now was find his sister and they could —

No sooner had he thought of the younger blonde did he find her a few feet away — and she was with company. Neku, Rhyme and Shiki were crowded around one of the smaller paintings on the wall ahead. They must not have heard Beat calling his sister’s name, because they didn’t stop what they were doing to turn around. It was a bit strange, because the skater had a pretty loud voice .. But it didn’t matter; he would just surprise them while their backs were turned. It would be more fun that way, anyway .. At least, that was what Beat figured.

It was only when he got close enough to the trio that he saw what they were looking at. It was a painting. It was a painting .. of Beat. And if that wasn’t enough, the title underneath the frame was no more reassuring than the image itself: It was titled, “The Forgotten Portrait”. “What the —?”

The trio turned towards him then; they looked at him, but they didn’t say a word. It was almost like .. they were looking through him. Like they were looking at something behind him.

The blonde turned around at that thought, and he found that he could not have been any more right about the situation. Because, standing there behind him was .. well, it was hard to believe, and Beat rubbed his eyes furiously before he actually believed what he was seeing. Standing a few feet away was a person that looked exactly like him, and could have been him, but it wasn’t — obviously not, he was standing right there! He was where he was, but that Beat still remained; it was no illusion of the eye, either .. rubbing his eyes had proved that much to him. Not only that, but the three standing behind him were acknowledging this other Beat as opposed to him — the real Beat. “Yo, guys, what’s all ‘a this —?”

But they went on with what they were doing, as if he hadn’t spoken to begin with. The blonde turned towards his friends, waving his hands, doing anything that might have caught their attention, but to no avail. They started to speak to one another; Shiki suggested that they head home, but this other Beat suggested that they stay a little longer. He wanted to look at all the paintings once more, from what it sounded like. Everyone had been in agreement with him, nodding their approval. Rhyme, in particular, looked especially excited — she’d loved the gallery, and she was happy that Beat was enjoying it so. It .. Almost hurt Beat to see it, because it wasn’t him she was happy about. It was this .. this imposter.

They then started to walk away, “fake Beat” following close behind the trio. However, as the other three teenagers went down the steps to the first floor, the imposter-Beat stopped walking. He stopped himself at the top of the staircase, and turned to look over his shoulder. He was looking at exactly where the real Beat stood, as if ..

As if he knew that Beat was standing there. As if he’d known this entire time that Beat was there. The smirk on this other Beat was sinister, and the teenager felt himself tense up. He advanced on the imposter, fists clenched tightly; whoever this guy was, he was going down.
“Yo — Yo, You get the hell away from ‘em! You touch one hair on any ‘a their heads, and you’re as good as dead! You hear me!? I ain’t playin’!” 

There was no response from the imposter in words, but as Beat screamed at him, his smirk grew wider. A moment of silence fell between them before any words were spoken; they were from the imposter, and they made Beat feel a chill all down his spine.

“They don’t need — no, they don’t want you anymore. They asked me to join them .. and so here I am.”

It was then that Rhyme came back up the steps, grabbing the false-Beat’s arm with both of her hands. She’d asked him why he was standing around, and she told him to hurry up, or else they’d both lose the others. His eyes still on the real Beat, he answered her with a “‘Course, sis”, and put an arm around her shoulder before starting down the steps with her. He wasn’t smirking any longer, but the gleam in his eyes was vicious. His words floated through the air long after he’d left, and they made Beat weak.

It was for this reason that he’d hung back; he legs felt like jelly, and if he took a step, he felt that he might fall over.  He couldn’t even find the proper words to speak; his throat felt constricted, his tongue felt ten times larger than it actually was, and it was getting hard to breathe. If it couldn’t get any worse, he felt tears stinging his eyes, and he clenched his fists, forcing them back for as long as he could.
Feeling his legs starting to give out even more, to the point that he could no longer stand, Beat leaned up against the nearest wall and slowly sank down to the ground. He’d been replaced. They had replaced him. His sister had replaced him. All the “real” Beat was to them was a portrait hanging on the wall, and they had this “new Beat” to take care of them now. Rhyme would look up to him as his older brother, Neku and Shiki would look to him as a friend.

And him? Well, he was nothing. Just a shadow in the background, someone they used to know but no longer needed to.

It made no sense when he tried to think about it, but he couldn’t be bothered to figure it out — not in his current condition. His head pounded, and he couldn’t think straight. Finally giving into the tears of frustration that he’d held up for so long, he leaned his head back against the wall and pulled his skull-cap down, so that his eyes were covered. “Neku, Shiki .. ..”

”.. .. Rhyme ..”

People, people - so many people walking through the ‘normal’ gallery there were, and yet not a one saw him. Not a one paid him any mind. No matter what he did, no matter how much he pleaded: he was truly ‘alone’ here. Was this…what it had been like for Mary, the ‘fake’ yellow rose holder, all those years of being trapped in the ‘Fabricated World’? Seeing reality, wanting so much to be seen, to be heard, to be real to everyone: and yet denied this? It brought a cold chill to his spine, to be sure.

"I…I didn’t want to have to hurt her…"

Though he spoke this aloud, there was no answer except - thanks to how spacious the inside of the building was - his own words, repeating back to him with an almost mocking sort of tone to their echo. it was true, though, even if nobody heard it. Ib and Mary had seemed so close. Such good friends. To see the girl in red having such apparent fun with someone her own age had made Garry happy, to see the girl smiling and not so sullenly serious for once.

Yet, the fact she was a painting and not real was quickly discovered, and he’d feared what Mary might do with her and Ib alone. His fears had ended up being founded: and in the end, they’d both had no choice but to destroy her to protect themselves. But - but - even though he’d saved Ib and himself that way: he’d felt awful about it. "Why did you kill me, Garry?" "I just wanted to have real friends!" …He’d had many a nightmare where he’d seen nothing but flames, and a disembodied, shredded, burning head of Mary mouthing off said words. Would Ib have been happier if they’d found a way to save Mary? Would it have truly been a wonderful event?

Yet, as much as he worried about it, the fact was and always would remain. It was such a dangerous scenario that it was guaranteed that not everyone would escape alive. No matter how much he wished there could have been a way to save everyone, that was the way things had to be back then, and there was no changing it. …It still made him feel like a terrible person, though. Had he let Ib down by making that decision? Was she… disappointed in him for doing that?

Argh, he just didn’t know. 

Yet, letting himself get all depressed about this turn of events would solve nothing. Something was wrong here. He’d seen ‘another him’ smirking at him in such a cold way that he felt that must be so. He wanted to find out what was going on, but….he was all alone. He couldn’t do this by himself. Yet…he was glad, in a way, nobody he ‘knew’ or cared about too much was here with him.

They could very well have ended up being misled by the ‘other him’ as well. He didn’t want Ib to get into danger like that. Well, if he couldn’t have Ib by his side to figure this out, he’d have to try and find someone else who did see him. He’d found one person who’d seen him, but the ‘twin’ of that person had chased at him after leading a group away, he only just managing to get away. He hoped the pink-haired girl had escaped as well. Walking around, he came across a painting, someone leaning on the wall near it. 

Wait - this painting had been the ‘Hanged Man’ before. Now, it was the ‘Forgotten Portrait’ - and it was HIM in the painting! Feeling an awful shudder run down his spine again, Garry tried to look anywhere but the painting. The person near the painting had an odd cap pulled down tight over their eyes, so he couldn’t really see their face, but…talking to him seemed a good idea to distract from that awful painting. Even if the other couldn’t see or hear him…he didn’t care WHAT sort of a distraction he had, as long as he got one from all this.

"E-excuse me, yo-young man - what are you doing there?"

Garry knew his tone was still shaky after all he’d seen so far - and all those people ignoring him - but it couldn’t be helped, given the circumstances.

⊹ || invisible? (event/open)


She remembered stopping at some spot in that twisted path where those mannequins couldn’t find her and the people she was traveling with. She remembered making a small little makeshift line in order to tell them not to cross when they were sleeping, all with a happy smile. And then, after a few moments, she was out like a light.

So how in the world did Vanille make it back to the gallery?

“…huh? I’m back here in this place?” the redhead stirred as she woke from her slumber. She looked around, expecting to see dripping paint and moving landscapes in paintings. Nothing. Everything looked as it should, right when Vanille first stepped in the gallery. “So, was everything else that happened just a dream? It sure felt real…”

Vanille shook her head vigorously, and patted her face a few times to make sure that she was awake. She looked around one more time, and got up from the floor. She was really back! Now she could get out of here! She didn’t know how long she’s been away from this world. Her sense of time was next to nothing there… she must’ve worried the others sick. Fang was probably going to give her an earful.

With that in mind, Vanille went to find the nearest exit. The quicker she got out and reunited with the others, the better. Keep in mind that they still had a world to save and a focus to fulfill. She really couldn’t stay here any longer than she needed to. When she went down to the first floor, Vanille could see the door. “Ah, finally! There’s the exit, so… Ciao, creepy gallery!” she cheered, waving to particularly no one. She walked briskly to the exit with a cheerful spring to her step. But before she could open the door, someone else beat her to it and went inside.

It was her friends.

Vanille’s face immediately lit up, seeing the sight of everyone again after experiencing that hell of a gallery. She immediately ran towards them with a smile. “Guys! Am I glad to see you all! You wouldn’t believe what happened just now! I wouldn’t stick around too long so let’s go!” She would apologize for worrying them, but for right now, the gang was together again! Now they just had to worry about…

…why did they just walk past her? Odd. She was hard to miss seeing as she was right in front of them. Surely Fang would’ve said something to her, like ‘where have you been’ or something. “Hah… guys? I’m sorry I worried you like that, but you don’t have to—”

Silence. It was as if she wasn’t even there.

Now Vanille was starting to worry. Were they that mad that she disappeared? “Guys…?” she started to say, following the group as they went. Sazh was talking about how weird the painting were, and Hope was agreeing with them. Vanille bit her lip slightly. What if they get sucked in like she did? She wasn’t going to let that happen. “Guys, be careful! There’s this weird painting—”

More silence. Did they even hear her?

“Sazh?” Vanille questioned, tapping on the older man’s shoulder to get his attention. No reaction from him. She then turned to the younger boy near her, and shook his shoulder. “Hope?” Vanille said, her tone growing more worried. No reaction from him either. She looked ahead and saw Snow and Lightning ahead, with the larger man shaking his head and saying he didn’t get it. They had to notice her right? “Hey, Lightning? Snow?” she inquired, but there was no answer from them either. Why… why were they ignoring her like this? Surely they all wouldn’t…

The redhead felt a lump growing in her throat as she then turned to her best friend. Of all people, Fang had to notice her presence, right? She had to. Fang was looking at something called “The Hanged Man,” or so she said. Vanille immediately went towards Fang’s side, tugging at her arm. “Fang? Fang please… you’ve got to hear me. You’ve got to! Please answer me!” she cried, eyes welling up as she searched for a reaction. Nothing. Green hues followed her friend’s focus, and Vanille couldn’t believe what she saw.

“The Forgotten Portrait.” It was her in the painting.

“Wh-What in the world? That’s me…!” she cried in a hushed whisper. Vanille took a few steps back, being in complete and utter shock and disbelief. As if one cue, she saw Fang finally glance towards her. And it wasn’t just her, everyone else’s eyes were on Vanille, finally. But no one said a word, it was as if Vanille was invisible and they were looking right through her. It was unnerving.

“Guys? Why are you looking at me like that? C-C’mon, quit it!” she cried, wrapping her arms around herself as a way of comfort. But it wasn’t until Vanille looked behind her that she realized what they’ve been looking at; another Vanille. The gang acknowledged her immediately, with Sazh being the first to point her out. Snow and Hope welcomed her, Lightning acknowledged her, and Fang… she gave this Vanille a hug, and then slung her arm around her shoulder asking where’s she been. “No… no Fang, she’s not me!” Vanille cried, but her cries fell on deaf ears.

Lightning had said that they should go, since it was a waste of time to stay, but the other Vanille suggested that they should stay, saying that it would be fun and they should look around. The boys all frowned, and Light and Fang both said that they had no reason to stay longer. Fang added that she was getting bored. But the other Vanille pleaded, clasping her hands together and smiling like she was asking for a gift. Then everyone eventually gave in.

The actual Vanille only stood in shock as she watched all of this go on. “G-Guys, that’s not me… that’s not me! No, don’t believe her… don’t—” she said in a distressed babble. The other Vanille looked backed at her with a uncharacteristic smirk. She knew she was there, and she knew she was watching.

“Don’t… don’t you dare,” Vanille hissed at the fake, but she ignored her too. “Don’t you dare do anything to them! I mean it! If anything happens to them, I swear…!” Her voice had cracked in her outburst, her emotions were starting to get the better of her. She… couldn’t believe that they didn’t notice her, even Fang of all people! Vanille found herself frozen in her disbelief, clutching her hands together like they were a lifeline.

“Something’s wrong… something has to be wrong… it has to be…”

Not too far away, a man in a tattered coat was sitting down and trying to make sense of what was happening here. Okay, okay. What was going on here? This certainly hadn’t happened last time, nor had anything in the gallery - not even those terrible dolls - come even close to being as foreboding as this. Taking a slow, shaky breath in, he closed his eyes, trying to recall what had happened before this. Maybe if he could make sense of that, he could make sense of now.

He’d been with that young man, Marz, he remembered. They’d both found a ‘hidden room’ in which a rather twisted version of a nursery rhyme had played out, forcing them both to complete a puzzle against time - in the end, they’d completed the puzzle, saving themselves. Then sunlight - wonderous, bright sunlight had come into the room. And that was all he could remember. The sunlight must have knocked them both out somehow? When he’d woken up, he hadn’t seen the young man Marz anywhere.

But - oh! He was back in the gallery. Yet, though he was safe, instead of being glad the nightmare was apparently over, Garry found himself worried sick.

What about the young man Marz? Miss Misham? That odd…grey creature called Soul-something? Had they managed to escape, too? Moving through the gallery, he tried to spy any sight of them, with no luck. And what was even more unnerving about it all was the fact that nobody seemed to notice or care about his presence, as if he were the ‘invisible man’ to them. Now, he was used to folk not paying him much attention in this ‘real world’.

Ib had been, really, the only one to pay much heed to him before the nightmare started, as it was when it ‘ended’. Still, something about this kind of ‘ignoring’ seemed to send a chill down his spine. He swore he saw, faintly, someone who looked the spitting image of himself among the crowds - who gave an unnatural, cruel smirk on seeing him before insisting for a group who was following him to ‘stay longer’. Garry wanted to shout out, warn the group not to follow the ‘Garry they could apparently see’, but he was too scared to do so.

Sometimes…his own cowardice made him feel quite ashamed. Now was definitely one of those times. That ‘other Garry’ gave him nothing but bad vibes.Something was terribly wrong here.

Had he really escaped? Or was this just some cruel joke by the Fabricated World? …He would have preferred it being a horrible joke, to be honest. Being ignored was an awful feeling. Suddenly, something snapped him out of his recallation of the events that had happened so far - a pink-haired stranger leading a group of other folk he didn’t know deeper into the gallery.

…Had she just smirked at him in the same cruel way he’d seen the ‘other him’ do? She’d SEEN him, he knew. Shrinking back, the lavender-haired man shook his head, unable to comprehend any of it - and let out a little ‘eep’ at walking back into someone.

"O-oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to bump into you like that!"

…Wait, why was he apologizing when the other couldn’t probably see him anyway? Probably just a bad habit, but - hey! This girl looked EXACTLY like the pink-haired person before. Only instead of a cruel look on her face, there was a look teetering - much like his own - on the edge of sadness and disbelief. 

The expression of the lady looked so…wounded, that even if she couldn’t see him, Garry couldn’t help pulling a red-wrapped candy from his pockets. He knew he usually only offered sweets he carried to friends, but he couldn’t just stand there and watch someone look so upset!

"Uhm. Would you like a candy? To cheer yourself up? …if you can even see me, that is…"

He felt a little silly, talking to someone who might not even see him, really.

Returning Nightmare (Open)


“You were trapped here before then, with someone else?” Well, that explained why the other knew about this place quite well. He already went through it! Oh, he could only imagine of how horrifying it must have been. He pondered of who exactly it may have been, who he was trapped along with the first time around. Were the same creatures that were lurking around now lurk here as well? It may have been like so.

“..I..I see..” He looked down at his shoes now, then looking up at the other again.  That was definitely something to keep in mind, especially now!


Wiping his tears with his sleeve, the albino child looked back to the elder figure, hope shined in eyes. He did his best to compose himself; fear welled up in him, fearing that his mother was forever lost in this nightmare. A few negative thoughts bubbled up into his mind; he then shook his head mentally.

“I’m hoping so! I already..sorta..mistook her for one of the paintings here.” He then appeared sheepish, rubbing the back of his head, “ Mutti somewhat looks like the paintings here, er…the..the ladies.” He bit on his quivering lip, “ I guess it’s because she wears blue and have brown hairs. “ He laughed this off nervously, ah, he barely escaped that lady too, dear.


He then piped up as the other spoke again, regarding his mother, “ A..Ah..danke! I..I’d appreciate that very much, Herr Garry!”

Oh, his comment about this place being scary enough ‘before’ had been caught to the other’s attention more easily than anything else, oops. He hadn’t meant to let slip that bit of information so easily, but he supposed this young man’s situation reminded him so much of his own the first time he had been dragged to this horrid place that he’d just naturally felt comfortable divulging such a fact. Well…even though the last time he’d trusted someone so openly in this world, it hadn’t ended well, talking to this young fellow felt a lot different than the times he and Mary had spoken. So it should be safe to trust him…right?


He’d still be a bit wary, of course. But as of right now, the other hadn’t shown any ‘suspicious’ behaviour like Mary had that gave him reason to not trust him, so. Mental processing aside, the lavender-haired man could only give a sad little nod as the other muttered a nervous ‘I see’ at the grimness of it all. “I-I’m sorry that the outlook looks so bleak as that. I’m sure there’s got to be some sort of solution, though.” ...Goodness, that was a terrible attempt at trying to make the whole situation more positive right there. Perhaps that small bit of encouragement was not so bad after all, though, as the other looked up.


He still seemed a bit teary, but more determined as well. Well, Garry was quite glad the other had gotten a positive effect out of that terrible choice of wording. Perhaps it was his time with Ib or something, but he couldn’t stand to see those younger than him in low spirits. However, what young Marz said next made him feel quite faint - did he just say his mother looked like a lady in blue from one of the paintings? Which meant they could run into a lady in blue thinking it was the boy’s mother and then…and then…!


There was an almost inaudible little shriek then. Garry was not surprised at all to know that it was coming from him.

"Oh dear, t-that does make things dangerous, doesn’t it?” Despite shaking like a leaf, though, he said, “We’ll just have to try and make sure we don’t run into the wrong ‘Lady in Blue’ then, h-hopefully.” If he said he was going to do something to help another, he was going to do it. Even if he felt – no, knew, his cowardice would end in more problems made than problems solved here.

"When you’re ready, young sir Marz, uhm…we can start trying to look for her."

(Source: returningbluerose)

“ white petals. [ intro, open ]


Now that he had mentioned it, his hair did look like an upside down rose. Ah, but nothing too out of the ordinary, really. She had heard many stories which depicted the hair styles of some Wildlings, and some noble women. All odd and unique in their own way, he was no different, really — but she would admit that it was, as he said, a bit ironic given their current situation and how roses seemed to be of great importance here. Despite it all, she managed to at least crack a small smile at the violet haired male and nod her head in agreement. 

Back to the subject of her dragons, she couldn’t help but wonder if they were alright. Perhaps Ser Jorah was taking care of them, keeping them safe. She wouldn’t allow them to fall into the wrong hands once again, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he would come looking for her — knowing that he swore to protect her, he most likely would. She had left them with him and hoped that he wasn’t stupid enough to bring them along to the gallery, their time in Qarth was over and their stay had only been longer to rid the place of all it’s riches. “I am unsure.” Her tone had changed to a firmer one, although it wasn’t intentional nor did she want to scare off the man — it was something that just happened these days. No one was to touch what belonged to her, especially her dragons. They brought out a side of her that would make her Khal proud. They were her children and a mother was to always get fierce when her children were involved. 

The young albino starred at the other’s face for a few seconds, starring hard into his eyes as she attempted to make something out of him. He seemed trust worthy enough, but even those who were once close to her had betrayed and abandoned Dany — she wasn’t sure if she was about to trust another … but even if she lived to deny it, she was a kind woman. She did have a kind heart and it told her that he was to be trusted. He had helped her, after all and had provided her with some insight as to what the rose in her pocket was for. For now, she would place her trust in the man. 

“You are very kind, Garry.” Lips twitching into a half smile, she gently held the rose in between her fingers as her eyes gazed around the room. The vase in which she found the flower wasn’t too far off, but she didn’t remember whether there was still some water in it or not. Perhaps in the next room? Dany would ask about that in a few, but first she’d listen to what he had to say. She tried to hold back the smile that threatened to form on her lips, it always seemed to amused her when others didn’t exactly know how to pronounce the title of Khaleesi.

“Khal-ee-see.” A shake of her head, and her expression changed once more into a more serious one. “You musn’t be so humble. Here, we are in the same situation. Because of that, you and I are equals.” There really was no need for him to treat her so highly — she was indeed a queen, but that meant nothing here. They were in the same predicament, the least they could do is treat the other with the same respect and try their best to find a way out of here.

“As unbelievable as this may sound, we are in ‘The Fabricated World’.”

… What. Once again, she couldn’t help but raise a brow. They were inside the painting from the upper floor? … Things were beginning to make no sense at all, and became much more confusing than they initially were. What exactly was going on? This couldn’t be the work of the Thirteen she  had killed —

“But I came here through the portrait of the fish on the floor. I — …” … In all truth, she didn’t exactly recall what had happened. She remembered going to the art gallery, she remembered everyone leaving. She remembered being called downstairs and then the last thing she did remember was the painting of the fish. After that, she landed on a flight of stairs and ….

“That was it.”

Even though the whole atmosphere here - no, the whole situation - was of the utmost seriousness, lives at stake and so many, so many people running scared through this nightmare version of the gallery, it was as if the mood temporarily lifted from that tense-filled air regarding that small irony: really, you couldn’t help but find it just a bit amusing. He even caught the lady Khaleesi giving the faintest of smiles…or did he just imagine that? It was hard to tell, really. Goodness, was it always this difficult to determine what a royal was thinking? It was a good thing Ib hadn’t been one, otherwise he might not have been able to assist her as much.

That would have been just terrible. Speaking of ‘lost things of grave importance’, though he did his best to be reassuring, it wasn’t enough to convince the logical-seeming mind of the lady, she stating that she was unsure in a very firm tone that almost surprised him.

Goodness, she must certainly be protective of whomever she was so worried about! It reminded him of the times Mary had threatened Ib’s safety, actually. Though he was a complete coward and more likely to run - preserve safety than to go anywhere near danger - he’d acted without thinking and shoved the painting girl to the ground, despite the fact she could easily have turned on his rose with the pallete knife she carried. That wasn’t like him at all, usually! Perhaps he had been so unwilling to let anything bad happen to her it had overridden his cowardice for one fleeting moment: similar to how the lady’s polite tone had turned so stern-sounding there.

Pondering over such things didn’t give any clear-cut answers, though, so he should stop worrying about it, really…it was just making his head hurt, now he stopped to consider it better. His thoughts were cut short anyway, by noting he was being stared at again, his dull blueish-grey eyes nervously meeting the lady’s own with a good deal of curiosity about them: but so timid he was that he could not possibly hold such an intense gaze for long, and he quickly decided looking awkwardly at his shoes was a better way to pass the time. Thankfully for him, the awkward moment passed soon, as did that odd gaze: what had that been all about? He couldn’t quite fathom at this point.

There was little time to consider it, though, the lady musing that he was quite a kind person - and ah, there was another smile there. “W-well, I’m just glad that I can be of assistance. Even though I’ve been trapped in this awful place before, I don’t really know everything. So in a way, I’m just as lost here as anyone else who might have got dragged here, given the place could have changed from the last time I got stuck in the place…” That said, he couldn’t help admitting she had a point there: no matter who you were before you came here, when you were stuck here, you were stuck.

"Well…that’s how I first got stuck here, too. It was only later I learned I was stuck in the ‘Fabricated World’ painting…but no matter which way you look at it, this world really doesn’t make sense that much. I-i’m sorry I couldn’t give a better explanation, but it’s just the way this place is. Is there…anything else I can possibly help with, though?"

Returning Nightmare (Open)


“…So..this place is the world alike the painting: The Fabricated World?” Well, that is confusing concept to get ahold of! It was something quite unlike of what he knew of, from…the little knowledge that he did know. The albino lad listened intently to the other’s whispery voice, and he figured that it was becuase he didn’t want anything to hear him. Since, who knows, the walls may have eyes and ears in this place! He nodded his head, “…A-And wall of hands?” He asked, perking up, his eyes became wide then. 

Dear, that sounded scary. 

He nodded again, at the other’s words, ” M..Mm, I can see what you mean.. If…my rose loses all it’s petals…I’ll..” He paused, ” I’ll be trapped here forever?” Which was better then death. 

And wait, did…did he come with anyone? He immediately perked up at that. ” A-Ah!  I..I did come with someone, Herr Garry.” He looked down at his feet, ” I came with mein Mutti..e-erm, Mother..and before I came and entered the Fabricated World, she told me to run on ahead to look at the exhibits.” 

“…I j..I just hope she’s alright. Since we got separated afterward. ” Clearly, he was quite attached to his mother, since that’s the only family he had. 

Though he put forth the information he knew as best he could - it was of very little surprise to Garry that the young Marz didn’t quite seem to understand the subject that well, parroting what he’d explained back to him with a quite befuddled expression written all over his face.  Sympathizing with the other’s confusion (after all, it hadn’t been all that long ago he’d been in the young lad’s shoes himself, lost and confused in this ‘Fabricated World’ and scared beyond all belief) - Garry spoke again, saying: “I know, it’s terribly confusing. However, that’s the truth, as far as what me and the one other person who were dragged here last time know. I’m not sure if the place’s ‘rules’ or what-not have changed since that last time, to be honest, so I’m not sure if this nightmare place has any ‘new’ things in it.”

A small pause then, a clear shudder from the seaweed-haired man obvious then. “To be honest, I don’t really think I’d want to know about any ‘new’ scary stuff here. It was frightening enough b-before!”

That said, judging from the wide-eyed reaction the other gave regarding the ‘wall of hands’ comment, it seemed the young Marz hadn’t yet run into that. “I certainly hope you don’t run into anything alarming like that, young sir, but sadly, the fact is, you probably will. That’s the kind of place this is.” After finishing that sentence, he let out a soft sigh, before nodding grimly at the other’s summary of the place.

However, the lavender-haired man grew most alarmed at hearing the other had come here with a parent figure…oh no. This sounded like Ib’s situation a lot, from what he recalled the girl in red had told him. He was even starting to cry a little, and despite feeling a bit awkward about trying to hug someone who may or may not react well to it, Garry couldn’t just stand there and watch someone cry, so he extended his arms and tried to give the other a kindly hug. “Please don’t look so sad. Last time, when me and someone else got trapped here, when we managed to get out, everyone who had been ‘in’ the gallery before this nightmare event returned to the ‘normal’ gallery safe and sound, along with us ourselves. So I’m sure your mother must be safe somewhere…!”

Well, he certainly hoped this young fellow’s mother was safe. It would be awful if the fellow lost her - he obviously cared for her a great deal.

"M-maybe…uhm - maybe I can help you find her?"

Even if he was a coward regarding most frightening things, he knew this, he found it impossible to ignore someone so obviously upset right in front of him. Besides, he could understand well where this young fellow was coming from. All too well.

(Source: returningbluerose)

Returning Nightmare (Open)


The child in return had shaken his head, a relieved smile took place on his face. In addition, the albino lad had responded silently with a few nods of his head. The stranger was quite — well, how to put it? Odd? Namely because of his purple / violet hair? Yet, März was no different really. He had unnatural white hair, and he pondered if he’d be a bigger target to catch for these monsters here. 

The other seemed like a nice gentlemen, from the looks of it. And he was glad that the other was well, perhaps, they could travel together while they..were in this horrendous yet beautiful place?

”..A-Ah, that would be appreciated, ja.” Was his response, a bit louder then beforehand - yet still a bit whispery though, he was intending to keep it down because of what may be lurking about. “..I’d like to know more of this…place.”

He soon perked up again, “…Garry?” A pleasent smile came onto his face, ” ..A pleasure to meet you, Herr Garry, I..I am März von Ludowing.” He bowed his head for a moment, ” Pardon my rudeness, for not introducing myself as well. “ 

Despite his thankfulness to the other, Garry couldn’t help but notice the albino’s ruby red eyes were not quite focused on his ‘face’ to begin with - but rather, his purple hair. Again? Goodness, first Ib and now this young fellow were curious about it. It was kind of an odd echo, considering this stranger who had saved him held a red rose as well. He found a small smile of amusement reaching his face at how simple and child-like the wonder seemed to be regarding the expression - well, being able to manage at least that much of a grin in this place was a nice change.

Holding the blue rose that had been handed carefully back to him with utmost care in his hands, he nodded at the other confirming that they would like to know what he could about the place. "Even though I’ve been trapped here before, even I don’t know everything about it, but I’ll inform you on what I can. This is the ‘Fabricated World’ - yes, the same fabricated world in that painting. I don’t know how, but we’re stuck inside the world that painting envisioned. A place where the exhibits are alive and seem to dislike anyone from the ‘real’ world."

A short pause, before he continued. “I managed to run away from the exhibits that chased me, but the hands on the walls got to me. If someone was so unlucky as to lose all the petals of their rose…well, since you found me with my rose nearly fully wilted and saw what that did, you can p-probably guess for yourself what would happen. Even the most ‘harmless’ seeming things might be d-dangerous here…” That said all in a whisper in hopes nothing would hear him, he nodded at the other introducing himself.

"Oh, n-no, you don’t need to worry about being ‘rude’, goodness! You just saved my life, after all, so I’m happy to help you whether you introduce yourself right away or not."

A kindly nod of the head, then, before he wondered aloud, “Did you come to this gallery with…anyone else, maybe?” There was the chance that if this Marz fellow had been dragged here, anyone coming to the gallery with him could have suffered that same fate, too. Maybe he could help the fellow find them, if he had come with anyone else?

(Source: returningbluerose)

Returning Nightmare (Open)


At his excitement, she couldn’t help but laugh, light giggles leaving her lips. She didn’t expect that her offer to instruct him would make him that happy, but she was glad that she could be of assistance - both to his artistic ability, as well as livening up the mood a bit. Come to think, that was the first time that she had laughed within this gallery… Well, there wasn’t really much to laugh at rather than fear.

Her laughter then was cut off suddenly, a small ‘huh?’ proceeding the fluster that made itself evident on her cheeks now. An…official artist? No, no; she couldn’t dare take that sort of prominence…! Sure, she had been painting for seven years now, but by no means did she see herself as an artist. If anything, it was a hobby, a hobby that she would - in time - turn into a career. Too embarrassed by that fact, she hardly even noticed his attempt to hug her and instead blinked in confusion at his apology.

“Ah…? I-It’s no problem, Mr. Garry… I can tell that this Mr. Guertena means a lot to you, and if there’s any way that I can assist you, then I’d be more than happy to…”

And of course, as quick as that refreshing conversation started, as quick as it ended - they both now had to dwell over the melancholy topic of the entrance painting. Regrettably.

“So, you’ve been here twice then…?” My; now wasn’t that bad luck? It was one thing for a newcomer such as herself being here, but the other… he had to relive this not only once but twice…! She didn’t even think that she would be able to do such a thing, had she been in his shoes. “Well, it’s fortunate that your partner doesn’t have to relive this…this frightening experience…” Wait, something sounded crass there. “…N-Not that you should relive it either…” There we go.

“If you’re wanting to search for others, then, um, please… let me accompany you… I-I can’t do much, unfortunately, but it’s better to go in numbers than alone… And I’ll do whatever I can to…” At his next statement, she nodded in concurrence. “…It frightens me as well… It’s like an artist’s worst nightmare…”

Well…w-well! It seemed that thankfully for his sake, the ‘official artist’ hadn’t noticed that embarrassing display of losing control over his emotions, and that was good: or had she? With the light giggles that emitted from her face, it really was hard to tell if that hug had gone unnoticed - or if she was laughing at just how silly that whole affair was. It was a good thing Ib wasn’t here right now, that was something he could say for certain. She might have thought he was sick or something with how red his face seemed to be turning.

Managing to recover from this after a few ruffles of his tattered coat, it was hard right now to tell who the more ‘awkward and timid’ one was - himself, or the artist, who seemed most surprised by his praise of her work. Well, he loved art! It was only natural he should want to praise and ‘look up to’ actual artists he met - not to mention Madam Misham was the first official artist he’d ever met! But now wasn’t the time to let his thoughts wander meaninglessly. Not in this awful place. He’d learnt that the hard way.

"Actually…there is something very important I wish to ask.” Since she was offering,  he should ask the biggest worry on his mind, by far. “Have you seen a young girl dressed in red called ‘Ib’ around here?” There. It had been asked. If the other hadn’t seen Ib, that meant that the girl had been spared from this awful nightmare this time, surely. (It could also mean she was stuck somewhere, her rose near death…No! Garry, she wouldn’t want you to think so pessimistically: snap out of it! She was a very clever young girl. Such a thing that had happened to him - twice now - surely wouldn’t happen to someone so clever!) 

His question put forth, Madam Misham was quick to ask one of her own - a surprised, somewhat sympathetic sounding tone as she surmised that he’d been here twice. “Yes, that is the case. Unfortunately.” A pause then, he tilting his head in thought. “But now that I think about it, I wouldn’t have met my wonderful companion if I hadn’t gotten stuck here that first time. So I g-guess I’m thankful for that much. And if I hadn’t gotten stuck here now, I wouldn’t have gotten to meet such a nice official artist such as yourself!” Well, when he thought of things that way, that made this whole nightmare a little easier to bear.

Those somewhat philosophical statements made, he blinked at the other offering to come along with him.

"Ah, really? Thank you. It would be a lot safer to travel with someone else until I find others, y-yes. Though, I must admit…what I’ll do once I find a number of others, I don’t quite k-know. I guess I’ll think of that when and if I come across them." A pause then, before he nodded in grim agreement with the other’s final statement - but before he could speak, a loud scraping noise nearby stopped his words cold.

"W-wha-what was that?! It sounded like metal being dragged…" There was only one exhibit he could think of made of metal. Those headless ‘Death of the Individual’ statues. Had t-they been found already?! "…Please tell me I just imagined that noise and you didn’t hear it too…”

Maybe it was all in his head - he was imagining it and they wouldn’t have to run? He’d much prefer that to seeing one of those scary headless things again…but they might not be so lucky.

(Source: returningbluerose)


“D-don’t be ridiculous! Alright, so I’m a wimp. That’s…nothing new for me. At all. But I’m not g-going to abandon someone who needs help.”

“If you say so. Actually, that’s pretty brave of you to say that, seeing how the lady in red is coming our way nonstop. It would be better off if you run away when the lady catches up though. I don’t want anyone dying on me just because of a twisted ankle. And I’ll always be the one to have my ass served twofold. Always.” [Okay, let’s stop with the duality jokes. This is a serious matter and during an event like that, everyone needs to be serious.]

[When the mustardblood picked up the doll, he heard a sudden shriek from the man in front of him.] “…What? What’s wrong? Afraid of this doll?” [Sollux tilted his head to the side a bit in confusion. A doll can’t possibly do much, right? Or is he just underestimating this gallery? Either way, the doll really does give the hacker an ominous feeling. Like misfortune is gonna jump at him very soon…]

[The troll was hit with a sudden chill when he heard a voice. Are… the voices of the imminently deceased back to annoy him again? As he listened, he saw words being written in purple right next to him.]





P ̀L A̧ Ý ͘P L ÁY̵ ͡P Ĺ A ̧Y

“Wh… How the hell does this thing know my name? And what does it mean you’re back…? Garry, right??” [Whatever the doll meant by play, it probably isn’t going to turn out very good at the end…]

“NO! We’re NOT going to play with you today, thanks!”

[And that was so very understandable as many dolls began tumbling down from an unknown source. The dolls were… headed towards their roses? Oh crap, this was bad. If they get their hands on his rose, then he’s a goner. The psionic reached for the rose in his pocket and held onto it tightly]

“…Ugh!” [Voices. So loud. All of them infiltrating his mind. Play with me, they all said. Sollux’s head really did hurt. It was so annoying to hear voices again. When the other grabbed onto his hand, the troll thought that it was a signal to GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THESE DOLLS BECAUSE YOU’LL DIE IF YOU DON’T. Well, his ankle didn’t hurt THAT much, now that he’s had a bit of time to recover. The hacker just got up and ran as fast as he could with the man. But still, the voices in his head really did bother him a lot.]

“…The voices in my head… They won’t stop…”

At his almost determined statement firmly stating point-blank he’d rather not leave another behind if things came to that, the creature almost had a disbelieving sort of reaction to it, mild and uncaring. This creature must be very brave to just shrug the ‘Lady in red’ off like that, or he’d experienced worse than this gallery’s monsters. In which case, Garry really didn’t want to know what sort of horrors the other had seen. He already got so little sleep over the gallery on it’s own.

However, at the other saying to be willing to try and help someone that would obviously slow him down was ‘brave’, Garry couldn’t help but look down at his shoes awkwardly. “We’re both stuck here. So we should do our best to help each-other out, right? Going at it alone in such a scary place…goodness, I wouldn’t want to do that, so nobody else should have to battle all these terrors b-by themselves. Besides, there’s too much awful stuff going on as is. It’s a nice change to…uhm…for lack of a better word, ‘be nice’!”

Musing aside, he couldn’t help but frown at the other stating he was ‘always the one who got his butt kicked’. “If I can help it, I’ll t-try not to let that happen again.” '…Even if you do still look scary', he couldn't help thinking to himself. However, there was soon a far more frightening thing to worry about. That doll….THAT doll. Oh, he'd had so many nightmares about what happened in the room containing thousands of these dolls it really wasn’t funny.

About him failing to get the key out in time and the giant doll ‘getting’ him, whereas in ‘real life’ he HAD gotten the key in time. The other wondered why he was screaming, but Garry knew this disturbing doll would all too soon show it’s colours - and exactly ‘why’ it was so feared. That thought was proven very correct as it - like it had done to him the first time he came - knew the creature’s name without he even saying it. The voices…they demanded with a ringing in his head to play.

The other asked what was going on, but there was no time! They had to get away from the dolls…the voices…the voices were so loud and so many, and so frightening. He had to run with this ‘Sollux’ to get away from them, before he froze in utter fear and they DID get him - or the other, for that matter! Managing to successfully grab the other’s hand, he ran with the creature, not once looking back - shaking like a leaf as he did so.

Taking a sharp left at the next turn, then a right, he paused to see the dolls run past, but it appears they thankfully had not seen them take the right passage way, assuming they’d run straight, and running down, still cackling the same phrases over and over as they went.

Where are you going, Garry and Sollux?



D͡ ̡O ̧Ń ̴’͘ ͢T͞ ̨ ̧Y̕ O ̸Ư ͘ W̨ A̡ ̕N T T O͟ ̢ ̶P̛ L A̷ Y҉ ́?͠ ̀? ͢? ̸

Garry ducked his head down to try and block the many voices out…but as the dolls got farther away, so did their voices. Until finally, it was silent once more.

"…Ugh…t-that was horrible. Don’t worry, I hate hearing those awful voices in my head, too."

He shook his purple-haired head violently, as if to try in vain to shake the screeching tirade of voices away from his memory.

"But, I owe you an explanation, now. You see, as the dolls ‘said’ - this isn’t my first time being stuck here. I’ve been trapped here once before. With a girl named Ib. We managed to escape, but I had hoped we would never have to worry about this nightmare world again. That it had been closed off for good. 

It looks like I was wrong, and I got trapped h-here again. As awful as being here again is, at least I can try and h-help others trapped as well.”

Returning Nightmare (Open)


It wasn’t that she found his appearance odd, but rather she was trying to determine whether or not he was trustworthy. She was quite a trusting person in the past, too trusting, prior to the incident in which she was involved; ever since, she built her guard up, being sure not to become too dependent on anyone lest she wanted a recurrence of what happened to her before. Having realized that she spent too much time staring at him, a small gasp left her lips before she embarrassedly averted her gaze altogether, taking an interest in the (harmless, thankfully) paintings around them rather than his person.

As he began to speak once more about the artist Guertena, she looked back at him, listening silently. His lack of eminence, so to speak, reminded her much of herself: she wasn’t a well-known artist either, so she could relate to how it felt to be in the shadows. When he mentioned how he’d like to contribute to the artist’s works, a small smile tugged at her lips now. “…Um… If you’d like… Once we get out of this place and to safety, I’d happily teach you how to paint…”

She then flushed lightly as he called her ‘Madam’; as far as she recalled - oh, being a recluse did have its consequences - the title of ‘Madam’ was to address women of authority. In her opinion, she wasn’t worthy of such a status. She supposed that she’d have to shove her modesty aside; if that’s what he’d like to call her, then so long as he was happy, she didn’t mind. “Yes, I did walk into a painting… ‘Fabricated World’, I think.”


“It’s… possible, yes… I mean, unless we have some sort of significance to this Guertena to be the only two here, then… the chances of others being here seem very high…” 


“…I wouldn’t like for them to experience such a frightening thing though…” 

Garry’s solemn expression regarding how obscure Guertena’s works were in this day and age - and had even been like this back when he first started painting, according to official records - changed to an utterly surprised one as madam Misham offered to teach him how to paint once they got out of the nightmarish world they were in. Now, it was his turn to stammer.

"R-really? That would be such a wonderful honour, to learn from an official artist how to best do his works justice! Oh, thank you ever so much for such a kind offer!" Overcome with thankfulness and appreciation for the other’s kindness, this mix of powerful emotions was enough for the man to actually step forward and try to give the other a warm hug.

Wait…wait. It wasn’t p-polite to just go hugging people without their permission, oh dear! He shouldn’t have let himself get so carried away there.

Stepping away very awkwardly, he spoke again, “…Uhm…I-i’m so sorry. I just got caught up in my thankfulness too m-much then. If there’s anything you would like in return, please, don’t hesitate to ask.” Wringing his hands together, now, he looked at the ground in hopes it would dispel some of that awkwardness, but, no dice there right now. Thankfully, the awkwardness seemed to fade when the subject of the serious ‘walking into a painting’ business came up. Hm, so his suspicion that Madam Misham had gotten here the same way he and Ib originally had was true.

Did that mean the escape route he and Ib had used would be the same, too? Or would it be different? If it was the same, then he could - if Ib had not been dragged here too - very well be the only one here with knowledge of the correct escape route, goodness. What if he turned out to be wrong, though? Oh dear, such a worry: he didn’t want to tell someone the exit was a certain place and let them down. Let alone someone who had saved his life. “So it’s highly likely more than two people got stuck here.” That soft whisper to himself aside, he then explained:

"I’ve gotten stuck here once before, but last time was only with one other person. I’m not sure how this would work with a lot of people, to be honest…"

Trailing off in thought, he nodded firmly in agreement with that last statement.

"Being without the person who got stuck here with me last time is a terribly daunting task. However, at least it means such terrors will not have to be experienced by that close companion of mine again. But that still means - if others are here -  they might be getting scared even now! I hope they’re al-alright. Maybe I s-should try to locate any others, but…"

Again, he trailed off, but it was in fear, not thought, this time.

"This place terrifies me, in all honesty."

(Source: returningbluerose)