[The shade winces, curling in on himself to shield his ears from that horrid sound. Alright, fine, Kronid's dream world, have it your way--
He would feel much more hopeless about this situation if he didn't know he was going to be able to help him in the waking world. Still, it hurts to watch this poor, helpless man being dragged away like this.
Draga, you already know.
Does he? Is-- is he correct? Is it as familiar as he thinks it is, or has he just had this dream enough times to think so?
He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes closed, the corners of his mouth pulled tight in a pained grimace. He can't watch anymore. He has to wake up, he has to help him-- help them.]
Hah--
[Vicious awakens in that familiar dark room, the glow of the setting sun seeping through the edges of his companion's blackout curtains. Kronid is still snuggled up against him, so small and deceptively fragile in his arms. It almost makes him not want to move.
Unfortunately, he's awoken with a task he must complete, post haste.
He's able to phase his arm through his snoozing bedmate and carefully roll over onto his stomach to reach underneath the edge of the bed without disturbing the goblin. It's times like this he's grateful to be a shade. After a moment of feeling around, something is jostled out of place and he's able to remove it from it's hiding place.
He can already tell by the gentle clacking of wooden beads in his hand what it is before he even lays eyes on it. He moves to sit up and confirm his suspicions, a pit forming in his stomach.
The man inside Kronid's dreams is real. A metaphor couldn't produce proof. He slides the beads through his fingers, shaking his head slowly.]
Well. I'll be damned. [He murmurs quietly, laughing to himself, careful not to wake his companion.]
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Date: 2023-04-02 07:36 am (UTC)He would feel much more hopeless about this situation if he didn't know he was going to be able to help him in the waking world. Still, it hurts to watch this poor, helpless man being dragged away like this.
Draga, you already know.
Does he? Is-- is he correct? Is it as familiar as he thinks it is, or has he just had this dream enough times to think so?
He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes closed, the corners of his mouth pulled tight in a pained grimace. He can't watch anymore. He has to wake up, he has to help him-- help them.]
Hah--
[Vicious awakens in that familiar dark room, the glow of the setting sun seeping through the edges of his companion's blackout curtains. Kronid is still snuggled up against him, so small and deceptively fragile in his arms. It almost makes him not want to move.
Unfortunately, he's awoken with a task he must complete, post haste.
He's able to phase his arm through his snoozing bedmate and carefully roll over onto his stomach to reach underneath the edge of the bed without disturbing the goblin. It's times like this he's grateful to be a shade. After a moment of feeling around, something is jostled out of place and he's able to remove it from it's hiding place.
He can already tell by the gentle clacking of wooden beads in his hand what it is before he even lays eyes on it. He moves to sit up and confirm his suspicions, a pit forming in his stomach.
The man inside Kronid's dreams is real. A metaphor couldn't produce proof. He slides the beads through his fingers, shaking his head slowly.]
Well. I'll be damned. [He murmurs quietly, laughing to himself, careful not to wake his companion.]