inbox | somnia

[hallowedly]

MURMUR | ENCOUNTERS

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[trashblaze]

[ Hours later! After this conversation. Using a private space on the Murmur, Caelus attempts to communicate. ]

Mr. Sakurazuka? I found some promising locations near Central Park.

[ Then, Caelus will provide mental images for the following clinics: Bond Vet (77th Street), Westside Veterinary Center, and Gotham Veterinary Center. ]

I also found preserved eggs!

[hallowedly]

( Intrusion, violation, an act of aggression —

...ah, but it's the young one, after all. )


Why, isn't that productive. Thank you! And they all seem, ah... suitably lacking in local wildlife?

[trashblaze]

Don't worry, I took care of them— I had to lure them out.

[ Caelus led the mutant creatures to get lost somewhere in Central Park. ]

It should be fine now. Do any of these catch your eye?

[hallowedly]

That's... the Westside clinic seems best positioned. If there are no... are you quite sure?

[trashblaze]

They're currently happily grazing in Central Park.

[ Westside clinic? He wonders which one that is. He hasn't perfected English yet, so he has a limited understanding of the words. The only reason why he knows what a place is by the pictures on signs and billboards. Commercial signs are his favorites, makes his life so easy. ]

I'll give it another full patrol for you, though! But which one is Westside?

action-ish.

[sacral]

[ Not tethered but with ties yet unbroken, it's not words or the wraith of his presence that feeds the connection. Rather — a wonderment, sharpened to a point.

Where do you want him to go? For the wards, of course.

It's not a date. ]

be still, my heart

[hallowedly]

( My, what sharp teeth Sumeragi Subaru's attention has.

The response is staggered, mulling. He trusts, he trusts not. He trusts, he trusts not. He trusts...

And then, the inevitable mental image of Westside Clinic: a remarkably green establishment operating at a high window pane and/or human life deficit. A miracle of the post-apocalyptic economy, helpfully located by street indicators.

It's not a date — but the next mental image is of Aventurine's questionable candy ♥ )

[sacral]

[ It's not the likewise gleaming edge of a firm decision that he expects but the low pendulum swing of a lush moon. Wax, wane, wax, wane... and finally, muted darkness pulled back over the location by light.

It certainly is. Green.

He doesn't wait for further invitation to set off, though the questionable candy slideshow does evoke something like in Murmur-vision.

It isn't as though he needed the bribe for a not-date. ]

[hallowedly]

( Ah, the tender subtlety of a home invasion. He does not yield to crepuscular anticipation, doesn't dust his porch. The strings of a Host-torn foundation and a bad idea: that's what Sakurazuka Seishirou's new humble abode is made of.

Mosaic of clustered glass shards, rickety-rusting hinges and the spidering intrusion of thicket. At least sunset's balmy copper ripens stark destitution into homey platitude.

Way of the world: he opens his own door, broom at the ready. For the decay and ruin, supposedly. Or an inevitable head injury to end the inconvenient turn of any conversations, recipient undecided. )

You're... ( On time. Not 'early,' not 'late,' not 'looking good,' not 'so kind to come.' The simplicity of a calamity. ) ...still here, awake.

( He had thought, the Sumeragi thirteenth head spied in the haze of mistress Charlotte. In the mires of Murmur. But illusions proliferate like inestation. This is credibly close, empirical. )

You forgot 'knock-knock.' But anyway, who's there?

[sacral]

Someone you know. [ Here, awake, in answer. ] Which is fortunate in this case, isn't it?

[ Someone he knows to safeguard this ground against those he doesn't. More against fellow man than monster. Irony isn't lost on him but simply placed where it will catch less attention. His ugly housewarming gift, ribboned by his otherwise lack of circumstantial judgment. They're meeting on ground they didn't crack themselves.

He eyes the broom anyway, its pleasant domesticity double-edged in Seishirou's hands; don't shoo him like a sewer rat, he's cleanly right now. ]

murmur;

[salaryman]

[ A casual, gentle tap on his "shoulder" ]

I found a few things out that are quite interesting.

[hallowedly]

( This... had better not be Kigai's code for bosom of creatures of the gentler persuasion. )


Good day, Yuuto. Oh?

[salaryman]

I had a chat with Sleep.

I was told she has no reason to lie to us so I asked a few questions.

[hallowedly]

How... industrious. ( But there's a stillness in the Murmur, at once chilling and predatory. ) Well, you were always good with women. What sweet nothings did this one whisper?

[salaryman]

Only the best for such a pretty goddess.

[ ha ha ha ]

She told me that those that did not join us in this waking world were returned to their own. I was relieved to know they were not simply devoured by the frightening nightmares that roamed that dream. [ another little laugh ]

She also let me know it is possible to tether with her if a suitable sacrifice is given.

coming in hot and eating a lot of crow -

[salaryman]

[ Aaa -- is that how much Sleep wants to give? He'd rather not. He understands now what Seishirou meant, and he balks at the idea. Giving up his life is one thing; giving up as much as One did is another. His pretty face is nice, but if what's beneath it is hollowed out -- he shudders. But he shudders with a lot of emotions that aren't his. ]

I don't hate to say but I must... you were right.

[hallowedly]

( And this, the most marrow-husked, fatigued, depleted, entirely and unreasonably warped: )

...is that so?

[salaryman]

[ Ah... ]

Yes. ... I don't think I have it in me to be a good worshiper.

[hallowedly]

Now, now. Keep going.

as far from an encounter as one can get.

[sacral]

[ Do they even know what day it is in these long moonlit hazes that only barely follow the laws of the cosmos, let alone time? Hard to say! So it may be for no reason at all that Sumeragi Subaru, having set his humble wards on Sakurazuka Seishirou's veterinary clinic, breaks them via sophisticated, unbranded shiki to deliver:

2x packs of Mevius cigarettes. One has been opened, but with only one stick removed. Probably the one Subaru lit, only to realize what the scent of its smoke meant —

and

1x bag of assorted starlight mints. There may be a few lollipops mixed in. Nonperishable under the heat of the Blood Moon; to take the edge off when the cigarettes deplete. ]

[hallowedly]

( Ah. The discordant notes of an anonymous winged interloper, slinging to Seishirou's rescue like the birthday cavalry.

His first gift for the occasion in those delicate talons. Hah.

He borrows the decency to send the shikigami back with an unwarranted, ill appreciated pat and thank you. )

post handpaw incident.

[sacral]

Whose knife is this.

[hallowedly]

Whose hand was that?

[sacral]

[ ? ]

Besides mine?

[hallowedly]

What a creature you are.

One who'll want a trinket for Kuji-kiri. Keep the knife.