Confirmation he was being plagued by fucking nightmares -- not actual dreams themselves a real fucking monster called nightmares. Figured they'd attach to an Atharim who had a guilty conscious -- seemed only fair if you thought about it. Nox laughed. It was funny in its own right.
Nox looked at the outstretched hand and pangs of guilt and sadness washed over him. The world twisted and swam with his emotions and he knew it for a dream. This being talked like he didn't know -- most didn't. But Nox knew shit he shouldn't. Knew things that normal people wouldn't know. Knew nightmares were real -- killable real. They were hunted and prized. And Nox had no quarrel with them, but they obviously enjoyed tormenting him. And now this. Raffe looking across at him -- wanting to help. It couldn't get any worse than this.
Nox didn't make a move to take his hand, nor to get up. There was no way he was taking any comfort in the visage before him. Last thing he wanted was to remember feeling Raffe. Hearing his voice was driving him insane -- and not in a good or pleasant way. It ate at his soul. Tore at his very being. And here in the dream it felt visareal, like if this thing looked at him long enough it could see the bits and pieces shredding from him. It hurt to talk to him. To see him. To feel him would be torture beyond torture. "I know nightmares are real. I know you are a dream. I won't remember this when I wake, but I know now. If my dreams are causing so much havoc tell the little shits to stay away or tell me how to find them and I'll kill them myself."
Nox looked across at the thing wearing Raffe's face. "You choose the one face that torments my dreams more than others offering to help. Why? Some sick fucking game. That doesn't sound like help. I love him. I ripped his fucking heart out in my dream and you walk around here wearing his face." Nox growled and reached out to take the offered hand closing his eyes and focusing on the blood that ran down his fingers, on his clothes, everywhere. Anything but Raffe's skin against his. "There is nothing you can do that will make any of this change."
Nox looked at the outstretched hand and pangs of guilt and sadness washed over him. The world twisted and swam with his emotions and he knew it for a dream. This being talked like he didn't know -- most didn't. But Nox knew shit he shouldn't. Knew things that normal people wouldn't know. Knew nightmares were real -- killable real. They were hunted and prized. And Nox had no quarrel with them, but they obviously enjoyed tormenting him. And now this. Raffe looking across at him -- wanting to help. It couldn't get any worse than this.
Nox didn't make a move to take his hand, nor to get up. There was no way he was taking any comfort in the visage before him. Last thing he wanted was to remember feeling Raffe. Hearing his voice was driving him insane -- and not in a good or pleasant way. It ate at his soul. Tore at his very being. And here in the dream it felt visareal, like if this thing looked at him long enough it could see the bits and pieces shredding from him. It hurt to talk to him. To see him. To feel him would be torture beyond torture. "I know nightmares are real. I know you are a dream. I won't remember this when I wake, but I know now. If my dreams are causing so much havoc tell the little shits to stay away or tell me how to find them and I'll kill them myself."
Nox looked across at the thing wearing Raffe's face. "You choose the one face that torments my dreams more than others offering to help. Why? Some sick fucking game. That doesn't sound like help. I love him. I ripped his fucking heart out in my dream and you walk around here wearing his face." Nox growled and reached out to take the offered hand closing his eyes and focusing on the blood that ran down his fingers, on his clothes, everywhere. Anything but Raffe's skin against his. "There is nothing you can do that will make any of this change."
![[Image: nox_sig.gif]](http://thefirstage.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/08/nox_sig.gif)