>>6099447“Ah! It doesn’t have to be romantic either,” She quickly raises and waves her hands as if surrendering, “I didn’t really mean it that way, but if you-”
“Stop before you make a fool out of yourself, Marie, I’m begging you,” Asher says, “Can we please just get to bed and do all the sappy friendship stuff in the morning?” He looks more put together seeing that you’ve calmed down, at least somewhat. Your vision is clearer and your hiccups are gone.
“Right, yes, that will work,” You say before a stray thought enters your head, and you again turn towards the Inquisitor, “Wait, I wanted to let you know since there’s a changeling-”
“Yeah, I got that part, princess.”
“Well, about Abram, if you knock him unconscious, he might-”
“Well, see. Goodnight, Lorina,” He’s a bit more forceful then. You don’t press the after that. Finding yourself more content dealing with the mundane problem of how uncomfortable Asher’s bed is and mentally complaining about how much space Marie, a very tiny woman, takes up.
Your dreams, however, are anything but mundane.
You’re seated on a hill with only a red mushroom with white spots that look much like an umbrella, protecting you from the red rain. Your metal chair is uncomfortable, but what makes you even more weary is the little blonde girl sitting at the other end of the white table. A cup of blue tea sits in front of you, nested in a cup of fine china on a plate with just as much quality. There’s a lake at the bottom of the hill, filled with red liquid much similar to the rain. On the opposite side of the hill lies a burning estate that is very familiar, yet you’ve never seen it with your two eyes. Mr. Dodgson used to tutor you there; a part of your mind tries to inform you, but you reject it. You’ve never seen that estate in your life.
The girl, Alice, sets down her cup, the liquid is purple, and looks off over the lake, her eyes gazing at the griffin and the cowish turtle performing a rather macabre dance. “It seems the white rabbit is going to die soon,” She off-handedly remarks, like that should mean anything to you.
“I don’t care.”
“You would if you knew what I meant.”
“I don’t.”
She takes another sip, “A lot of people are going to die soon.”
“How do you know that?”
“She’s going to come back. It always happens like this.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know, and I’m sorry.”
“Are you going to tell me? Or can I leave?”
“Hey, Lorina?”
“What?”
“Do you think your world deserves to live?”
“What do you mean?”
“Does it really deserve it? Even if it was never supposed to exist? Even if we were never supposed to inhibit it?”
“Hmph,” You stop talking, seeing as she isn’t going to even entertain listening to you.
