Nightmare: I’ll write my character having a nightmare about yours, or vice versa.
Brain Damaged Jim Verse //
It’s pouring outside. Richard never much liked the rain, as poetic and romantic as everyone made if seem. It was wet and dreary, not mimicking a great sonnet, but the dark spots that stained his heart with sadness.
Everything in the flat is filtered by a grey overcast, making it all seem less real and more like some kind of film noir. The kettle’s boiled over by the time he makes it into the kitchen, and he nearly scolds his hand when he reaches to click off the stovetop.
Something doesn’t feel right. It’s too empty, too quiet, too - trashed? Broken plates monogrammed with the singular letter “M” are scattered across the floorboards, old newspapers following just behind. Break in at The Tower of London, Local Author to Sign Books at the Rosemount Library - Deceased Detective Sherlock Holmes Found Innocent. That’s one he hadn’t looked at in a while.
Feelings of intense dread wash over him, building in his throat as if to block his airway. He gasps for breath, considering the fact that someone might very well be choking him - but who? Someone else lived in the flat alongside of him, but a name wasn’t so easily placed. It was someone familiar, someone with empty, kind eyes. Someone like him.
Following the trail from hallway to hallway, he starts to hear the beginnings of a cat-like snarl. The cat, like his flatmate, went without a name. Neither were in sight.
& excuse me yes this is for the scar meme from like 84 years ago
((i was so confused, but now i’m laughing so much))
Send me “&” for my muses reaction to yours tracing one of their scars.
Seb had fallen asleep, though whether it had been of his own accord or, in fact, due to the copious amounts of alcohol he was known to drown himself with, Richard hadn’t the slightest inclination. What Rich did know, was that Bash hadn’t a shirt. He also knew that, regardless of the technicalities revolving the reason for the snoring man on the sofa, he’d stay well asleep. For the time being.
Richard smiled to himself as he returned to the lounge where Seb lay, perching himself on the coffee table so he could set to work.
Sebastian, for his part, had only honestly been asleep. That is, until he felt an odd scratching feeling on his chest. Blinking awake, he found himself staring down at a piece of tracing paper pressed to his chest, as Rich had been tracing the tiger stripes across it, much like children trace fallen autumn leaves. “What th’…” Fuck, he was so confused.
"—-if you bugger off in the next three seconds, we’ll pretend this never happened, yeah?"
I had sooooooooo much fun sleeping with you Richie, instead of that icky, sickly tiger Basher. You're soooo cute.
Let’s kill Basher and get married, please. :( I love you so much. Do it for meeee. *Bad Romance by Lady Gaga plays in the background.*